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Tous les autres exemplaires originaux sont film6s en commenpant par la premidre page qui comporte une empreinte d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par la dernidre page qui comporte une telle empreinte. Un des symboles suivants apparaitra sur la dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le cas: le symbole -^» signifie "A SUIVRE ", le symbols V signifie "FIN". Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film^s d des taux de reduction diff6rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clichd, il est film6 d partir de I'a'^gle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mdthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 V V April 11, 1936 THE CON T. G. MARQUIS .eXhiABQkP.F,.5UJT.0N .. ^ .„. book indeed in which Tom Marquis could not find something to praise. I^ut writinp; book reviews for this journal was only a small chapter in a long career devoted to education and literature. Much of his work lias gone unnoticed, because, a gen- erous and somewhat self-eflaoint; man, often he did not take credit where credit was due. According to Or. Locke, he was responsible for both "The Chronicles of Canada" and "The Makers of Canada," although his name is not officially associated with these works. And there is a not inconsiderable numl)er of oilier native books which have benetited from his quiet editorship and advice. We need, however, go only to tlie list of his own published volumes for proof of his extensive contribu- tion to Canadian knowledge: "The Jesuits in North America"; "The War Chief of the Ottawas"; "Mar- garet de Roberval" (a novel); "The Presidents of the United States from IMerce to McKinley"; "Life of Karl Roberts"; "Canada's Sons on Kopje and Veldt"; "English Canadian II III Mtorature: a Study": "The King's Wish" (a fairy tale); "Stories of New France" (in collaboration with Mi ". Machar. : "Naval Battles of the Nineteenth Century" (in collabora- tion witli Rear Admiral HiRginson): "Life of Brock." He was joint editor also of "Canada and Its Prov- inces" (2:? volumes) and edited "Canada in the Great War." MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL aNADA NATIONAL LIBRARY BIBLIOTHEaUE NATIONALE Gift of Offert par Estate of Arthur S. Bourinot MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL A ROMANCE OF THE DAYS OF JAC(2UES CARTJER By T. G. MARQUIS LONDON T. FISHER UNWIN PATERNOSTER SQUARE MDCCCXCIX ^^Ka:-3gx:i-ri.T .. '^tm 162916 /^/j'/^^/x r ^, [Alt rights reserved,} y MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL CHAPTER I " 'T^IIESE narrow, cramped streets torture me ! I must get out of this place or I shall go mad. The country, with its rolling fields and great stretches of calm sky helps a little, but nothing except the ocean will satisfy my spirit. Five years have gone now, and I am still penned up in this miserable hole, with no power to go abroad, save for a cruise up the Channel, or a run south along the coast. If matters do not change, I think I shall quietly weigh anchor on La Hcrmine and Slip across the Atlantic without leave of King or blessing of priest. I tell )'ou, Claude, it would be rare sport to go that wa\', without a good-bye word to friend or lover. Gold ,is there in plcnt}', and diamonds arc there, and a road to the Indies ; and if we should bring back riches and new dis- coveries the King would forgive our boldness." The speaker was a middle-aged man, with jet- black hair and beard, and piercing black eyes. He was as straight as a mid-forest pine, and tanned and wrinkled with years of exposure to sun and 6 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL ).: wind, but was a handsome, commanding fellow withal. His name was Jacques Cartier. He was the most famous seaman in France, and had already made two trips across the stormy Atlantic in boats in which nineteenth-century sailors would fear to cross the Channel. His companion was Claude de Pontbriand, a young man of gentle birth, who had been with him on his second voyage. He was as dark as Cartier, with a lion-like neck and shoulders, a resolute mouth and chin, and a kindly eye, whose expression had a touch of melancholy. Among his companions he was known as their Bayard ; and the purity of his life, the generosity of his disposition, and his dauntless courage made the title a fitting one. The two men were walking along one of the winding thoroughfares of the French seaport of St Malo, on a glorious moonlight evening in the autumn of 1539. The hour, though still early, was an unusual one in those days for anybody to be abroad simply for pleasure ; and the little town was quiet and deserted save for an occasional pedestrian whom business, of one kind or another, had compelled to leave his home. There was a short silence after Carticr's remarks, before De Pontbriand replied : " I thought you had had enough of the New World." " Enough ! " exclaimed Cartier. " That New World is mine. I first took possession of it. My cross still stands guarding my interests at Gasp^, and my memory is still dear to the red men from Stadacona to Hochelaga." MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 7 " I am not so certain of the friendship of the Indians," interrupted his companion. " If we had not carried off old Donnacona and his fellow-chiefs it mi^ht have been so, but now that they are dead you will have some difficulty in inventing a story that will regain you the confidence of their tribes- men. Ah ! Cartier, I warned you then ; and now I only regret that I did not oppose your action with my very sword. Poor devils ! It was pitiful to see them droop and droop like caged birds, and finally die one by one. Poor old Donnacona ! I expect we shall find his spirit back on the heights of Stadacona if we ever cross the ocean again." " That was a mistake," replied Cartier, " but one never knows just what will be the results of an action. I did it for the best. I thought the Indians would enjoy a visit to Europe as much as did the two lads I brought over on my first voyage. They were too old, however, and seem to have been rooted to the soil. I am afraid we shall have to invent a way of explaining their absence should we return to Hochelaga. Would it not be well to marry them to noble ladies, and give them dukedoms in I'Vance to govern ? " " A good idea, with the one drawback that it is false ; and there are enough false men already in France without an honest seaman swelling their numbers. But my impression of the savages is, that you will have a hard time to make them believe your story. They are a deep people, and, as we found them, a generous people ; and once deceived, you will find that they will never again have perfect confidence in their betrayers." " Perhaps so ; I daresay you are right. But ( 8 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL why borrow trouble that is years and leagues away from us ? We arc here in old France, and likely to stay here." " I am not so sure of that." " What 1 " " I am not so sure of that. I had a long tcte-h- Ute with Jean Francois de la Roque to-day, and he is wavering. He has much influence in Picardy, and King Francis is greatly indebted to him. He declares that if he wants a ship, or indeed a fleet, he can have it. He professes to be anxious to win souls in the new land of darkness, as he calls it ; but do not lay too much stress on the darkness when you meet him. The gold and the diamonds and the furs will touch his heart much quicker than anything else. He is a shrewd fellow, and if you can get him enthusiastic over your New World you will soon be at your beloved Stadacona, and have a chance to stay there too. His idea is to plant a colony there, develop the resources of the country, and, I have no doubt, save the souls of the inhabitants at his leisure. I wish we could get together some of our old friends. A few of the men who pulled safely through the scurvy would be a great help on another such expedition." "Where is Charles de la Pommeraye?" inter- rupted Cartier. " Dc la Pommeraye I Have you not heard the last news of him ?" " No ; what fresh scrape has he been getting into ? There is no braver fellow alive ; and if he does get into a few more quarrels than the rest of us, it is merely because of his excessive gallantry. A petticoat will always bring him to MARGUERITE I)E ROBERVAL 9 I 1 m his knees. Why man, at Hochclaga he dofifed his plumed hat to every fair savage who attracted his eye. If I get a chance to go again I will find him, though I have to search every hole and corner in France." " I am much afraid you will have some trouble in finding him. The last report I had of him was, that he was seen l>ing in the streets of Paris with several daggers gracing his breast. He was my friend, as you know, and, despite his foolhardiness and follies, the only man in whom I could ever have perfect confidence. I had always expected he would meet just such an end ; but I have shed more tears for him than I ever thought to shed for any man." "Charles de la Pommeraye dead!" exclaimed Cartier. " I cannot believe it ! " "Neither can I!" interrupted a sturdy voice that made both men leap back and lay their hands on their weapons. " Neither can I ! And if any one doubts my word, here's my sword to prove it ! " " La Pommeraye ! " cried Claude. " Where in Heaven's name did you spring from ? " and the two men seized the hands of the >'oung giant who, in the attire of a fashionable gallant of the day, with gay-coloured doublet and hose, richly plumed hat, and surtout trimmed with gold lace, stood laughing before them. " Paris, where I was seen lying dead in the streets. How long is it, Claude, since )ou have had such a poor opinion of me ? I have been put to strange straits in my day, but I have never yet slept in the streets. Be thankful I did not leave the two of lo MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL you to be carried out of this square in the morning. I came here spoiling for a fight, and had my sword all ready to begin carving you when Cartier's voice struck me like a whiff of bracing, salt-sea aii. But what great enterprise have you on hand ? Your serious looks bespeak some weighty scheme. Whatever it is, my sword is at your service." " I doubt if it would be wise to take such a fire-eating duellist into our confidence," said Claude, regarding his friend with a smile. " Now, Claude, that is hardly fair. You know I am no duellist. I merely fight when I am com- pelled to, and never without just provocation. For instance, I had a delightful passage-at-arms last night, but it was no fault of mine. I was coming across the Sillon when a pretty girl came towards me with a leisurely step that seemed to say : *' I have just been watching for you." She had a face like a flower, in the moonlight, and I could not resist snatching a kiss. That was all : but it acted like a match in a powder magazine. She started back with a cry. Evidently she had not been waiting for me ; and before I could apologise, or take back the kiss, her lover swooped down upon me with drawn sword." " I trust," exclaimed Claude, " he let a little of the impudence out of your gallant hide." "Not a drop. I know the danger of kissing pretty girls in the public thoroughfare, and never do it without having my hr.nd on my sword-hilt. He sprang forward, and I sprang back. The girl was between us, and in his haste to spit me, he pushed her roughly aside. The slight pause gave i MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL IX .1 me time to draw my sword. He came at me, blind with fury, but I was on my guard. A pass or two showed me that I could disarm the fellow in five minutes. The fair one stood by, mutely wringing her hands, and as I wished to stand well in her opinion, I resolved to show her what I could do. I have been learning some cuts and thrusts and guards in Paris, and now was my chance to put them in practice. I bewildered the fellow, and when I thought her highness must have seen that I was the better man, and the more worthy, I let out with a rapidity rarely seen in musty old St Malo, and my opponent's sword went clanging against the wall. " The man was no coward. No sooner was his sword out of his hand than he tore open his shirt, crying : * Stab, villain, insulter of women ! ' But if I had attempted to take him at his word, and punch a hole or two in him, I could not have done so, for even while he spoke his beloved sprang between us, and hissing the epithet ' Coward ! ' in my face, flashed a dagger towards my breast. So quick was the stroke that I am afraid only a miracle could have prevented a woman from at last making a permanent impression on the heart of Charles de la Pommeraye, but I was once more to be saved from the base designs of the sex. My antagonist seized her hand from behind with a vice-like grip ; and there we all stood — a most interesting group of enemies. He was the first to speak. " ' Put up your toy,' he said sternly to the girl, who, except for that one word ' Coward ! ' had never uttered a sound since the beginning of the IS MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL struggle. * Put up your toy ; my life is in his hand. He has won it with the sword.' " ' Charles de la Pommeraye/ I answered, ' never strikes a weaponless man. Take up your sword, my friend, and let us give this fair Amazon a little more worthy entertainment.' " But he would not even look at the weapon that had failed him. "'Here it is,' said I, lifting it from the ground. * But I am very much afraid we shall both have to sheathe our swords for to-night. Yours has lost a good foot. That wall has excellent granite in it. But meet me here to-morrow with a fresh weapon, and we can finish our little difference by the light of yonder moon,' " ' I am no duellist,' he cried, ' but I accept your offer. Your name is known to me, Charles de la Pommeraye. and I know you as a man of honour, despite your unknightly conduct towards a de- fenceless woman. See, she has fainted ! Help me with her to my house, and to-morrow at this same hour I will meet you at this spot without seconds or witnesses. Lift her gently,' he added, as he raised the girl's shoulders. ' Put your arm about her on the left, and we can carry her between us.' " But she was perfectly limp. We were really dragging her through the street, when I said : ' This will never do. Lead the way. I will follow you.' As I spoke, I raised her from the ground, and although he resisted my action, he soon saw that there was no help for it, and strode before me in silence. The moon shone full in the girl's face as she lay in my arms, pale and lifeless, and I saw MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 13 the error I had committed. She was unmistakably of high-born lineage, and I would have given worlds to undo my rash action ; though what she was doing at that place and at that hour is btyond me to conjecture. But we were at the door of my antagonist's house in a few moments, and he bade me hand over my burden. As he took her in his arms he exclaimed : ' To-morrow night, remember. The Sillon : and come without witnesses.' " " Quite a romance," said Cartier ; " but you are never long in a place without picking up something of the sort. How long have you been in St Malo?" " Since yesterday afternoon. I had gone out for a moonlight stroll, and was crossing the Sillon, dreaming of that glorious voyage we had together up the Hochelaga." " Well, Charles," said Claude, " have a care ! If you keep up this sort of thing you are never likely to have another such voyage. But, by the way, did not your adversary act in rather a strange way for a lover? He allowed you to carry the fair one, did you say ? " " Yes, and walked ahead, as if he had been her father." " I am inclined to think you have been mistaken. No lover would have behaved in that manner. He is probably her father or elder brother." "Neither, neither, Claude? He was too young to be her father, unless the moonlight greatly deceived me, and he resembled her as much as I do one of the gargoyles on Notre Dame de Paris. But I am glad you have thrown out the hint. 1 will diligently enquire of him if he is her lover, and u MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL if he is not, I will be satisfied with disarming and humiliating him a little for his boldness. If he is, however, I am much afraid I shall have to despatch him to Heaven, as an obstacle in the way of my winning the lady of the dagger. I have felt the charms of many a fair woman before, but none ever had power to move me as did that helpless girl last night as I carried her to her home. She is an angel, Claude, with the face of a Madonna ! " " Well done, Charles ! " exclaimed Claude, laugh- ing. " I am glad to hear that you are caught at last. Hear him, Jacques ; how delightful it is to hear him confess that he has felt his heart burn before now. But this is the one, only, and lasting affection. Ah ! Charles, you are still a sad dog ! In this same town six years ago I heard you swear that you would live and die true to the beautiful daughter of the Sieur des Ormeaux ; in just one week you were on your knees to Cosette, the daughter of the drunken captain of a fishing smack ; and in two months after that I saw you myself, in the shadow of Mont Royal, wildly gesticulating your undying devotion to the daughter of old Adario, that greasy potentate whose warriors were filled with awe at the imposing way in which you bellowed a ' Te Deum.' " "Silence, Claude, or, by Heaven, I shall forget that we are sworn friends in love, in war, and in peace, and challenge you to fight as soon as I have finished with the fool whom I must now hasten to meet. Do not follow me, I beg of you ; I would not have him think I had friends standing by to witness our struggle. Good-bye ; and if I am not back in half an hour you will find an account of all i f MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL IS in ^ave to kid to not all my worldly possessions in an iron box, about six inches square, in my room at the old inn." Without another word he strode away from them, and a few paces brought him to the end of the street, where the buildings ceased at the be- ginning of the neck of land known as " The Sillon," which connects St Malo with the mainland. At that time this strip of land was not nearly so wide as it has since become, and was merely a narrow causeway, protected from the encroachment of the tides by a stone wall on the side towards the sea. The two men followed him no further than the end of the street, and stood in the shadow of the last house, waiting to learn the result of the encounter. " There goes the bravest fellow in France," said Claude, as they watched him disappear. " I only wish there were more like him. He was born to fight ; and he has done so much of it that he has at last come to look upon a duel as a necessary part of his day's amusement. And the best thing about him is that he has killed fewer men than any other duellist in France. He has the heart of a child, and the arm of a giant. But hark ! Stand close. His opponent comes this way. He is past. Listen ! By Heaven, but they have lost no time. They are at it already. I only wish he had not insisted on our staying concealed. I would rather see him at sword play than watch an army in action. But what is that ? A woman's scream, as I live!" CHAPTER II T N order to explain the scream, it will be necessary to go back to the morning of the day on which this conversation took place. St Malo was looking its dingiest. A heavy rain had fallen during the night, and a mist clung to the muddy streets and grey walls till nearly noon. The little town, with its narrow thoroughfares and towering houses, was as gloomy as a city of the dead ; foul odours rose on all sides, and would have been unbearable but for the cool br eze which swept in from the Channel, driving the mists and fog before it. In one of the highest and most substantial houses two young women sat at the casement of an upper window. The house was a gloomy one, without adornment of any kind except an arched porch, over which was chiselled some motto, or emblem, that had become undecipherable from age. The room where the two girls sat was plain in its appointments, and badly lighted, though its sombre- ness was relieved by numerous feminine trifles scattered about, betraying the character and tastes of its occupants. The elder of the two was Marguerite de Roberval, niece of the nobleman from Picardy to whom reference has already been made. She was about ."* MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 17 necessary on which ,s looking iring the reets and own, with )uses, was rs rose on e but for Channel, abstantial ement of lomy one, n arched motto, or rom age. ain in its sombre- ■le trifles nd tastes Loberval, 10 whom las about twenty-four, dark, and very beautiful, with masses of black hair crowning a well-set head, finely-cut features, and a figure which, even as she sat on the low window-seat, showed tall and willowy. Her beauty would have been flawless but for one defect — her chin was a shade too prominent, giving her face an expression of determination, which, while destroying its symmetry, told of a strong will, and a firmness amounting almost to obstinacy. She had the lithe grace of a panther, and though her repose was perfect, a close observer rriight have noticed a nervous tension in her attitude and bearing that told of a hidden force and energy resolutely controlled. At her feet, on a wide-spreading rug, sat her friend and companion, Marie de Vignan — in many ways her exact opposite. Not so dark as Marguerite, nor quite so tall, with a face inclined to be more round than oval, bright, well-opened eyes, and a merry, laughing mouth, her plump figure and vivacious expression bespoke a happy, contented nature, on whom the world and life sat lightly. She had come from Picardy with Marguerite, and was, indeed, the ward of De Roberval. Her father had been killed by a bursting petronel a few years before, and had left his only child to the charge of his friend and comrade-in-arms. " Heigh-ho ! " said Marie, with a half-suppressed yawn, " will this fog never lift ? Who would have thought, after the glorious moon of last night that we should have such a day as this on the morrow ? " " Patience, ch^rie" replied her friend, looking up B i8 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL from the embroidery on which she was engaged. " We have had many such mornings since we came here, but they only make the day seem brighter when the sun does shine out. See, there is the blue sky beyond the housetops ! The full sun will doubtless be out ere noon. I often think a wise Providence must send all this mist and rain. If some such means were not taken to cleanse these streets, we should soon not be able to breathe the air of St Malo. I cannot understand what has taken possession of my uncle to leave our broad acres in Picardy for these wretched streets and bare, gloomy walls." " It is delightful, Marguerite, to hear you com- plaining. I have been wondering how much longer we were to be ke[)t cooped up here like moulting falcons. I am not much given to grumbling, but I do long for a breath of fresh air, and room to stretch my limbs without falling into a mud-hole, or being nearly knocked over by a clumsy sailor or fisher-lad. When we left Picardy I thought we were going to i^ontainebleau ; I never dreamed we were about to exchange the sunny slopes of the Somme for this ! " " No doubt," said Marguerite, with a little sigh, "my uncle has good reasons for remaining here so long. You know his cherished schemes about the New World." "Yes, and I shall never forgive M. de Pontbriand for suggesting to him that he should leave T^rance. Now that we at last have peace, I was beginning to hope that my warrior guardian would find time to take us to Court, and let us see a little more of life and the gay world there. 1 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 19 igagecl. nee we y seem c, there :he full n think ist and ikon to able to Icrstand o leave ,'retchcd 311 com- \\ longer noulting ig, but I 00m to ud-hole, y sailor ight we nod we of the Ic sigh, here so lout the ll. de [should :ace, 1 liardian us see Lre. 1 was tired of staying at home, I must confess, but since my experience of these dreary stone walls I ask for nothing better than our fine broad halls in Picardy. However, as you say, there is no use complaining. But have you forgotten — you promised to tell me the whole story of your last night's adventure. I have been patient, and asked no questions ; but I am dying of curiosity to hear how it all happened." " There is very little to tell," answered Marguerite, with some reluctance. "We were coming home in the moonlight, as you know, my uncle and I, and as we crossed the Sillon my uncle stopped to say a word to a sailor who gave him good-night as we passed. I did not notice that he was not at my side, and so was a few paces in front of him, and in full light of the moon, while he was in shadow. Suddenly a swaggering ruffian of a fellow came towards me with an insolent jest, and before I could realise what he was about to do, I felt his lips touch my cheek. I cried out, and my uncle instantly rushed upon him with drawn sword. That is the whole story." " But what was the result ? Your uncle did not kill the villain, did he ? And what could have happened to cause you — you, whose courage has never been known to flinch at the sight of blood — to be borne home in a swoon ? I assure you, Bastienne and I had trouble enough with you last night. You have not told me everything, Marguerite. I am sure of that." Mdlle. de Roberval's dark cheek flushed a little. " It is a painful story," she said, with some 30 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL m i If i hesitation. " I never thought to stand by and see a De Roberval disarmed. Yet, such was this scoundrel's skill, that after a few passes he suc- ceeded in wrenching my uncle's sword from his hand, and we were at his mercy." "And what then?" cried the younger girl, breathlessly, as Margaret came to a pause again. «• I would I had been in your place to see such sword-play. I thought your uncle was invincible." "So did I, until last night. I have often seen him in sword contests before, and none were ever able to withstand him ; but he was as a child in the hands of this man." " Why was I not there to behold this prodigy ? But for your friend De Pontbriand and that eagle- eyed seaman who comes to visit your uncle, I have not seen a man since I left Picardy." " I trust you may never chance to see this cowardly scoundrel. But if you compel me to finish my story — when my uncle's sword flew clanging against the parapet, I could stand by in silence no longer. I had looked to see the fellow punished as he deserved, and now a De Roberval stood unarmed before him. Everything swam before my eyes, I thought only of saving my uncle's life, and, drawing the little dagger I always carry, I would have plunged it into the villain's breast, had not my uncle caught my hand. I re- member no more till I found myself at home here." " Bravo, vi'amie ! " cried the enthusiastic Marie, clapping her hands. " I knew your courage would not fail you. But what a terrible experience for you to have to go through ! Thank Heaven it ended no worse. But tell me, what did this gallant, :"5i- MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL swam "■1 ig my i always 1 illain's 1 Ire- \M here." Marie, would ce for ven it M allant, who proved himself so mighty a swordsman, look like ? Describe him for me." " I cannot, you foolish child ! Do you suppose I noticed his features ? He was tall and powerful ; but beyond that I saw nothing, except his laughing eyes as they met mine when my dagger touched his breast." " It is not every day one meets a man who can laugh with a dagger at his breast," exclaimed Marie, half-jestingly, half-serious. " I must indeed see him. I shall know no peace until I do." " Then your desire is granted," said Marguerite, " for, if I am not mistaken, there is the man himself across the street at this moment. Yes, I am sure it is he ; see, he throws a kiss to that fisher-maiden opposite. That will show you the true character of your hero." Despite Marguerite's sarcasm, the man whom the two girls now beheld was a noble specimen of humanity. Full six feet four in height, with broad, athletic shoulders, straight, clean limbs, and a face as bright as a schoolboy's, though his age could not have been under thirty, he was a man who could not fail to attract attention wherever he might be seen. He was clad in the height of the fashion, and his gay apparel, with its lace trimmings and jewelled ornaments, bespoke him no commonplace adventurer. But the most striking feature in his appearance was his hair, which fell in sunny locks upon his shoulders from under his velvet hat with its spreading plume. In truth he looked more like a Norse Viking of old than a cavalier of the sixteenth century. 9 sa MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 1 li u I' ■> " What a noble fellow ! " was Marie's involuntary exclamation, as she gazed upon him. " Noble ! " said Marguerite, scornfully. " You surely forget what you are saying. Would you call his conduct of last night noble? " " Oh, as to his conduct and character that is another matter. But what a magnificent carriage he has ; and what shoulders ! I should like to meet such a man as that. See, he has turned his eyes this way. Whoever he is, I should certainly fall in love with him if I knew him. It seems to me he is like what Charlemagne must have been ; or — ^yes — like Charles dc la Pommeraye ! " Marguerite started at the name. "What do you know of La Pommeraye?" she exclaimed. " Have you forgotten, or were you not present the other day when M. de Pontbriand was lamenting the death of his friend in Paris? You have surely heard him speak of him. I wept when I heard of his untimely end, for I have ever had fond recollections of Charles de la Pommeraye." " You, Marie ? What can you mean ? You never mentioned his nam.e to me. Now that I hear it again, I remember that that was the name my assailant had the audacity to givemy uncle lastnight. It had vanished from my memory when I swooned. But what do you know of De la Pommeraye? Where did you ever meet him ?" "That man's name La Pommeraye?" cried Marie, disrerarding these enquiries, and gazing eagerly after the retreating figure of the fair-haired unknown. " Can there be two of the same name ? MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAI, 23 )resent 1 was You wept have e la 11* red ,me? Could it be possible that he was not dead, or that Claude's friend was another I Yes, that is he; I am sure of it now! How was 1 so stupid as not to recof^nise hitn ? I reincmher hini," she explained, "some sixteen years ac^o, when I was a very little girl. He was a great lad, not more than fifteen, who took me in his arms, and tossed me high above his head. He had just come from Pavia, where, in the disastrous battle, he had twice saved my father's life. Since then I have never seen him ; but I have heard of him occasionally as flitting about 1)\- sea and land, seeking adventure ; a restless soul, who never seems happy unless he is in danger of being killed." " I am sorry to hear that )'ou know him," said Marguerite, a little coldly, " for I tear he is in danger of being killed in earnest this time. As I came to myself in my uncle's arms at the door last night, I heard him say, ' To-morrow night, remember ! The Sillon : and come without witnesses.' The words can have onlv one meaning. They must be about to meet again to-night ; and in a calmer mood, and with a better weapon, my uncle cannot fail to administer to him the chastisement his insolence deserves," "Pray Heaven the Sieur de Roberval may not tneet his death instead," exclaimed Marie ferventl}-. " If this man and Claude de Pontbriand's friend be one and the same, there is no more famous duellist in France. He has never been defeated ; and he has the advantage of j-outh and strength on his side. Your uncle will require the aid of an angel from Heaven if he is to avenge himself on La Pommeraye." !l^ 24 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL Marguerite had risen, and was pacing the room with an agitated air. " I have been greatly Lroubled about it," she said. " I did not know what you tell me now, of course ; and I hope and pray that you may be wrong. But my uncle is not so young as he once was, and he will be quite alone, and at the mercy of this villain. I have been trying to think out some plan by which it might be prevented, but I do not know what we can do." " There would be no use speaking to your uncle, of course ; anything we could say would only make him the more determined. But I will tell you what we can do ; we can go ourselves, and see fair play." " Go ourselves, you crazy girl ! What are you thinking of?" " I mean that if we were present, in hiding of course, and unknown to any one, we could inter- vene in time to prevent bloodshed, and if your uncle should chance to be getting the worst of it, we should certainly be able to save his life. La Pommeraye could hardly kill him in our presence. We should, besides, have the rare opportunity of seeing a contest between the two best swordsmen in France," and the impetuous girl's eyes sparkled with some of the warlike fire of her warrior ancestors. " Would it not be a glorious chance, Margiierite ? But how we should manage to conceal ourselves in an open space like the Sillon, I do not know." " Oh, as to that," said Marguerite, " that would be easily managed. Within ten yards of the spot where they fought last night there is a step lead ■ i :h: i MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 25 ing down to the water's edge, and closed on either side. It is called the ' Lovers' Descent ' — Claude showed it to me one day — and there we could stand without fear of detection. But I must con- sider your mad scheme. Could we possibly manage to prevent a catastrophe ? And even if we succeeded in doing so, would it not be only a postponement of the issue ? They are determined to meet, and we should only make them so much the more determined — to say nothing of my uncle's wrath when he discovers our presence. But then, if what you say of La Pommeraye be true — and my uncle is alone, and no one knows of the meeting — yes, Bastienne, I am here. What is it?" She interrupted herself at the entrance of a short, thick-set woman, considerably past middle- age — evidently a privileged old servant. There was no mistaking her origin. She was a peasant of Picard)', faithful, honest, good-natured, and strong as an ox. She had been in the service of De Roberval's family all her life ; and once, by her courage and devotion, had actually saved his castle when it was besieged by the Spaniards. They had forced their way to the very gates, and had built a huge fire against the door of the tower, whence the defenders had fled in terror, when Bastienne seized a keg of powder, and dropped it fairly into the midst of the fire, round which the soldiers stood waiting till the great oaken doors should be burned away. The castle shook to its foundations, and the courtj'ard was strewn with the dead and the dying. The advance was checked ; De Roberval's men rallied, rushed from 26 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL the castle, and won a c^lorious victory against over- whelming numbers. Bastienne herself was badly shaken by the explosion, and terrified half to death at her own daring. To the end of her days she fancied herself haunted by the spirits of the un- happy Spaniards whom she had sent to such a fearful end. She stood in the doorway, panting from the exertion of coming up the stairs in unusual haste. " Ma'amsellc," she exclaimed, in what she meant to be a muffled tone, as she came towards the girls with a mysterious air of having some thing of importance to communicate, " I fear there is trouble in store. As I passed the Sieur de Roberval's room just now I saw him making fierce passes with the sword that hangs above the boar's head. If he is not possessed of the Devil " — and she crossed herself hurriedly — "he must be getting ready for a duel, and at his age, too ! Heaven have mercy on us all if anything should happen to him ! What is to be done?" "If he is practising with that famous blade," said Marguerite, turning to Marie with a confident smile, "your friend will have need of all his skill to disarm him. It is a magnificent Toledo, and has never known defeat. 13ut as )'ou say," and her face clouded again, " we must do what we can to prevent a fatal ending to the duel, l^astienne, be ready to accompany me at nine o'clock to-night. And sa)' nothing to any one of what you have seen. Your master has probably good reasons for what- ever he may do, and he would be very indignant if he thought that any one had been observing his actions," MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 27 The old woman, rebuked, left the room, murmur- ing to herself as she went, and the two ^irls proceeded to lay their plans. A little before the appointed hour that evening, having taken old Bastienne into their confidence, they secretly left the house, and made their way to the place of rendezvous, which, as has been said, was but a short distance away. All three were soon established in the cramped and .^arrow little stairway which Marguerite had described, and waited with no small trepidation the arrival of the contestants. It was difficult to keep Bastienne quiet. A bright moon was shining in a clear sky, and a gentle breeze crept in from the Channel, cold and piercing. The younger women scarcely felt it ; but Bastienne's old bones ached, according to her, as the)' had never ached before. However, by dint of threats and entreaties, they succeeded in silcncc- ing her ; and none too soon, for a brisk step was heard approaching, and the next moment a gay voice soliloquised close beside them : " By the light of the moon I should say I had arrived a little early. Time for reflection, however. It is always well to give a thought to one's chances in the next world just before a fight." As he spoke he took his stand within a few feet of where the girls were concealed, and began his reflections on the world at whose portals he was standing, by trolling a gay drinking song. When it was finished he recklessly dashed into a Spanish ditty, commemorating the defeat of King Francis at Pavia. In this he was interrupted by an angry voice at his elbow : 28 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 1 " A pleasing pastime for a son of France — to sing the glory of her foes ! " " So ho ! " replied La Pommeraye cheerfully, " Monsieur's anger has not yet cooled. I had never a thought of the words — it was the air that carried me away, and, perhaps, the fine description the song gives of King Francis' stand on that fatal day. No one joys in and yet regrets that fight more than I do. I won my spurs ir it, and I am here to defend them to-night. But how does the fair one on whose account we meet ? 'Tis a pity she should not be here to witness her lover's doughty deeds a second time." " Villain ! " came the indignant answer, " before you utter any further insults, know that you speak of Mdlle. de Roberval, my niece, whose name your vile lips are not worthy so much as to pronounce. Draw, and defend your life !" " I trust the Sieur de Roberval will pardon my error," said La Pommeraye, drawing back with a bow, while his whole air changed to one of respect- ful deference. " Had I known the circumstances, I should not have been so read}' to offer you the second contest. In the light of the moon I mis- took your years. Your skill with the sword is, I am aware, justly renowned, but my youth and strength give me the advantage. Accept my humble apologies, Sieur, and let us end this quarrel without blows. I will leave St Malo at once, and you shall not be reminded by my presence of this most unfortunate affair." The nobleman's voice was fairly choked with rage. *' Draw, coward ! " he hissed. " It is not enough MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 29 that you must insult, in the person of an unpro- tected girl, the oldest name in France, but you dare to taunt with age and unskilfulness a man whose sword is dishonoured by being crossed with yours. Were my age thrice what it is, my arm would still have strength to defend the honour of my house. Stand on your guard ! " As he spoke, he made a fierce and sudden lunge, which would have taken a less wary opponent by surprise, and ended the duel on the spot. It was met and parried, and a cool, steady counter-thrust severed the cord of the cloak about De Roberval's shoulders. "You fight at a disadvantage with that cloak about you, Sieur. I have removed it," said La Pommeraye, with no scorn in his voice, but with a calm self-possession which told De Robcrval that he was indeed in the hands of an opponent for whom he was no match. 'I if It t CHAPTER III T_T AD the two combatants not been so deeply absoibed in their own affairs at this juncture, they could not have failed to discover the presence of the three women ; for at the sight of her master at the mercy of his opponent, as she supposed, Bastienne forgot her caution, and could not sup- press a scream. Further demonstrations on her part, however, were instantly nipped in the bud — if one can use the expression with reference to Bastienne's good Picard mouth — by a prompt and determined application of her mistress's hand. Marguerite's quick eye had seen that her uncle was still uninjured ; and at all hazards the secret of their hiding-place must not be revealed. She held Bastienne firmly till she felt the old servant's lips tighten under her hand, in sign of submission to the inevitable ; and then, with a whispered warning, and without releasing her grip on the woman's arm, she turned her whole attention once more to the scene before them. Marie, in the meantime, had never taken her eyes from La Pommeraye, and was following his every move- ment with breathless interest. The two men stood foot to foot, eye to eye, watching; each other as only trained swordsmen MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 31 n so deeply his juncture, he presence " her master e supposed, Id not sup- ons on her the bud — efercnce to )rompt and ;ss's hand, her uncle the secret aled. She servant's ubmission whispered p on the tion once ie, in the from La ry move- to eye, vordsmcn can watch. Back and forth they swayed in the clear light of the moon, their swords clashing and singing as they parried or thrust. De Roberval's face, wrinkled and hard at any time, had now an expression of diabolical hate. He was as pale as the walls of the houses in the moonlight, and his eyes glowed with a murderous fire. He seemed reckless of his life, and savagely thrust at his opponent every time any part of his body was left unguarded. It was otherwise with La I'ommeraye. Con- fident of victory, he smiled calmly at the other's rage, occasionally darting in a straight thrust at some part of his antagonist's body, that told Ruberval how entirely he was in the good-natured giant's power. The moonlight, that made the old man's face cold and stwny, seemed to illuminate \vith warmth the handsome features of the younger. Robcrval noted the smile as the moonliuht shone full upon La Pommeraj'e, and his fury increased. Fiercely he flew at him, and thrust with the dexterity which had made him the most distinguished swordsman among the nobles of France. La FommeraN'e had to move with lightning swiftness to avoid a wijuiid ; and once, indeed, he felt a stinging sensation near his heart, and knew by the warmth at his side that blood was flowing. It would not do to trifle longer. As if a whirl- wind had entered his arm. his weapon flashed hither and thither with such rapidity that Roberval Turcot his hate, and thought only of keeping off the attack. lUit it was useless. Once, twice, thrice, he was touched, touched so lightly that no blood MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL u. was drawn, and just as he was about to lower his sword to his generous opponent, who was evidently playing with him, he caught a look in La Pommeraye's eye that told him he was once more about to attempt disarming him. Such a disgrace and humiliation must be averted. He braced himself for the struggle. He determined if possible to bind his antagonist's blade. But to no avail. The trick was an old one, and ordinarily an easy one to outwit ; but the arm that now practised it was a giant's. De Roberval vainly tried to hold his sword. His wrist seemed suddenly to burn and crack, and a circle of light flashed before his eyes. It was his sword, torn from his grasp, and hurled over the wall into the water. A quivering silver arc marked the spot where it had gone down. La Pommeraye stood with the same imperturbable air as before. He was smiling as only a victor can, but there was neither scorn nor pity in the smile. " It shall never be told me that I was beaten," said Roberval impetuously, as he snatched a jewel- hilted dagger from his girdle. " Hold your hand," said La Pommera"^e, sternly, as he saw the frenzied man direct the weapon towards his own breast. " Put up that toy, and be a man. You have been fairly beaten, as has every one who has crossed swords with me. It is no disgrace ; but no one shall know what has passed here to-night unless from your own lips." But his words came too late. The dagger, flashing downwards, struck the breast of the infatuated man, who fell apparently lifeless. A wild scream rang out from behind the wall. i MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 33 rnly, apon id be very no ssed the It was Bastienne, no longer to be restrained. But neither Marguerite nor Marie heeded her now, for both had rushed to the side of the prostrate swordsman. Me had fallen forward on his face, and Marguerite flung herself upon his body. La Pommerayc had seen men die before ; he had killed a few in his day, both on the field of battle and in single combat ; but never before had he had the same stirring of conscience that he now experienced at the spectacle of this beautiful girl overcome by the sorrow he had brought upon her. But his weak- ness was onlv for a moment. " Mademoiselle," he said, approaching, " perhaps we may still be able to do something for your uncle. His wound may not be fatal." He bent over to assist her to rise, but she was on her feet unaided, and drew back from him witli the one scornful word she had flung at him the night before, " Coward ! " La Pommeraye stooped over the lifeless figure at his feet. As he turned it reverently over he noticed that there was no mark of a death-struggle on the limbs or face. Death seemed to have taken sudden hold. But no ! he felt the heart, it still beat ! The dagger had never pierced the breast ! His eye suddenly caught the jewel-hilted weapon lying on the ground. " Mademoiselle," he exclaimed, seizing it joy- fully, " your uncle has only fainted. Here is his dagger untarnished with his blood." He held it out to where she had been standing a moment before, but she had disappeared, and in her place stood De Pontbriand. c 34 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL I I l! i ' li !: " I am glad to hear you say that," remarked the latter. " It would have been a severe blow to his niece had he fallen by your sword." A groan told that Dc Roberval was recovering. If La Pommeraye was a good swordsman, he was an equally cheerful liar. He realised fully how deeply Roberval was stung by the disgrace of his defeat. " There was little danger of his falling before my sword," he said ; " his cloak, which had been cast on the ground, became entangled with his feet, and he fell ; and rather than give an opponent the satisfaction of saying he had spared his life, he drew his dagger, as I should have done under similar circumstances, and would have ended his own existence, but the hand of Providence has in some strange manner intervened." He was still kneeling beside the fallen man, and somewhat to his surprise he felt his hand clutched and pressed, showing that his explanation had been understood and accepted. De Roberval was soon completely restored to consciousness. He attempted to rise, but when he put his right hand on the ground he fell back with a groan. La Pommeraye saw in an instant what was wrong. The strength of his effort to disarm De Roberval had broken one of his wrist bones. " Sieur," he said, " you must have fallen heavily, your wrist is broken." Such was the case, and it was a fortunate mishap for the House of Roberval. It was this that saved his life. He had drawn his dagger, raised it for the blow, but in the process of bringing it down he had twisted the broker, wrist so severely that the .sudden pain had caused him to lose consciousness. lii MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 35 ishap saved 3r the e had the ncss, and the dagger, barely touching his breast, fell beneath him in the dust. " Monsieur, let mc help you to your feet," said La Pommeraj'e, and, as he spoke, placed his strong arm under the reclining nobleman, and raised him as if he had been a babe. De Robcrval was as one in a dream. He seemed hardly to realise what had happened until he saw Cartier and Pontbriand standing by. " What brings you here ? " he almost shouted. " We heard a woman's scream," replied Cartier, "and fearing that some unfortunate fair one had met with a mishap, wc rushed to the rescue." " A woman's scream ! What woman ? " and De Robcrval looked hastily round ; but the three women had discreetly disappeared. J^efore he could say aught further he was inter- rupted by La Pommcraye, who gallantly came up, and, holding out an unsheathed sword, said : " Let me, Monsieur, present j-ou with your weapon, v/hich you lost when you so unfortunately slipped on your cloak." It was a lie, and De Robcrval's look showed that he was aware of it. Possibly he was dimly conscious of having already committed himself by his silence to his generous opponent's explanation, or his wounded vanity may have been too strong to allow him to confess his humiliation before the other two men ; at all events he replied, with an attempt at dignity : " I thank you. Monsieur, but you must sheathe it for me, as my right hand is helpless." Without a word La Pommeraye raised the sheath, and drove the blade home. 36 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL I? " You are generous," said De Roberval, " and I hope you may learn to be as honourable as you are generous. I am wounded, and will soon recover ; but the kiss that burns on my niece's cheek is a wound from which she will never recover." "^ At the words a sword flashed from its scabbard, and De Pontbriand stood fierce and defiant before his friend. " So ! " he shouted, " it was Marguerite de Roberval you dared to kiss — you, whose lips are polluted with the kisses of a thousand light-o'- loves ! Draw, and defend yourself! " " Draw, Claude ! Never ! " and he drew his cloak more closely about him, so as not to let it be seen that he was unarmed. " Never, Claude. Friend in love, friend in war, friend in death, even if that friend give the blow. Strike if you will ; I have done dishonourably, and no hand is so worthy to punish dishonour as the hand of Claude de Pontbriand." " Enough of this," interrupted De Roberval. " Put up your sword, De Pontbriand. He has apologised, and I accept his explanation. The whole affair arose from a mistake. It v/ould be well, however,'' he added, turning to Charles, "if this would teach you a lesson on the unmanliness of assaulting every unprotected woman you may happen to meet. But where," and he checked himself suddenly, and threw a piercing glance round him, " is the woman whose scream you heard? Has there been any one else here?" "We were some little distance away, Sieur," said De Pontbriand, " when we heard the scream, :i! if lance you MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 37 H ^ and when \vc came out into the open there certainly seemed to be a number of figures here, three of whom disappeared on our approach into the shadow of yonder wall ; and when I turned to look for them, there was no one to be seen." The fact was that Marie't quick eye had caught sight of the two men as they emerged into the moonlight and came towards them, and, like a flash, she had drawn the other two women into the shadow of the wall. The instant they recog- nised the voices, knowing that all was safe, and in terror of being discovered, the two girls seized each an arm of old Bastienne, and taking advan- tage of the momentary surprise caused by Claude's discovery of the identity of Charles' opponent, had made their way back to the nearest street, with a speed to which the old serving-woman's legs were totally unaccustomed, and never rested till they had landed her, breathless and panting, at the door of their own house. Charles, in the meantime, discreetly held his peace. He might have imagined that he had dreamt the whole scene had not De Pontbriand been able to vouch for the scream. At all events there was now no trace of the three women to be seen, and after a thorough examination of every possible spot where so much as a mouse might have been concealed, they gave up the search. De Roberval looked a little perturbed. "You must have been mistaken," he said to Claude. "There certainly cannot have been any- one here. At all events," he went on, "the affair must now be considered at an end. De Pontbriand, you must get into no quarrels. We f I ^1 ■J i I I ii 1" :• ! 3^ MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL shall have need of all our good men if we embark upon this Canadian expedition, which I have now in mind." " Good, good ! " cried Cartier, tossing his cap in the air like a schoolboy. " Up with your sword, Claude, and let us get our old friend to join us ; we shall have need of him. And, La Pommeraye, beware of bringing down on you the wrath of your friends. It is easy to fight enemies, but he who makes an enemy of his friend loses something he can never regain. To-morrow, then, let us meet and talk over our plans." In a few minutes the group had separated. Cartier and De Pontbriand escorted Roberval to his home, while La Pommera}'e turned his foot- steps away from the city, and towards the broad, moonlit fields. He was restless and disturbed. The image of Marguerite de Roberval haunted his brain, and he could not get rid of an uneasy impression that Claude's eagerness to defend her honour had something more behind it than mere chivalrous gallantry. Then, too, how came she so suddenly upon the scene of the conflict? and whither had she disappeared ? He walked all night, rot caring whither, absorbed in pondering over the mysterious circumstances which sur- rounded the beautiful girl who had made so strong an impression on his imagination ; and the first faint streak of dawn found him back at the spot where the fight had taken place. Looking idly over the wall his eye caught the gleam of De Roberval's sword full fifteen feet below the surface of the clear water. No one was about. In a moment he was stripped. He took one quick plunge, and I MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 39 meet mere she and 1 all iring sur- rong first spot idly Do rfacc nent and the next instant the sword was in his hand. When he returned to the city, he waited till it was full day, and then with eager steps proceeded to the house whither he had borne the unconscious form of Marguerite two nights before. Hammering on the door, he waited, uncertain what to say or do, and timid as a schoolboy for the first time in his life. The old, crusty servant who opened the door, curtly informed him that his master was still in bed. " Tell him," he said, " that Charles de la Pommcrayc wishes to see him in his own room if possible." In a moment the servant returned, and, guiding him through a long and dark hall, brought him to a chamber hung with trophies of the fight. On a couch in the centre, overhung with heavy cur- tains, lay De Roberval, haggard and worn, having evidently passed a sleepless night. " Go, Jean," he said, waving his hand to his servant. When the door was closed La Pommeraye advanced, and bowing, said : " Monsieur must pardon my visit, but I have fished up his sword, and thought it best to bring it to him at once. Ah, I sec mine on the floor ! It has not often had such treatment ; but it was used in a dishonourable quarrel and deserves dishonour." As he spoke he took it up lovingly and placed it in its sheath. The tears were in the eyes of Dc Roberval as he took his loved blade in his left hand, but his voice was hard and cold. " I thank you, Monsieur," he frigidly replied. f 40 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL I I 't i 11 if ■ V iij < 1 til • Ml !, " You add one more to the obligations under which you have already placed me." La Pommeraye saw what an effort it had cost the nobleman to make even this slight admission. It was like swallowing the bitterest hemlock to ac- knowledge his debt to the man who had vanquished him, and whose generosity had shielded him from disgrace. The young adventurer was shrewd enough to see that if he would win favour with the uncle of Marguerite he must wound his vanity and pride no further. He felt that it would be wise to withdraw, and, after expressing in a few words his regret for the thoughtlessness which had been the cause of the unfortunate affair, he was about to leave the room, when De Roberval called h'!m back. " Stay," he said, " I have fought many battles, but last night I fought with the most honourable, if the most thoughtless, man in France. This afternoon at four o'clock Cartier and De Pontbriand meet with me to consider the expedition to Canada. Join us in our councils ; we cannot but be benefited by the experience and courage of so distinguished a soldier, and one so well acquainted with the New World." La Pommeraye bowed his acknowledgment, and found himself once more in the streets where life was just beginning to stir. He was soon at the inn to which for years he had resorted when in St Malo, and after a breakfast that would have satisfied Goliath himself, he went to his room to snatch forty winks to brace and refresh him for further adventures. I CHAPTER IV A FEW minutes before the hour designated by Roberval, La Pommcrayc appeared in front of the house, which had now become a kind of magnet for his feet. As a general thing his care- less nature made him unpunctual, and he had not infrequently kept opponents waiting for him \\'hen he had a duel on hand. To-night, however, he hoped for a glimpse of Marguerite, and this made him prompt to keep his appointment. He scanned the windows as he passed along the opposite side of the street, but no one appeared to meet his eager gaze. With a heart palpitating like a school- boy's, on whom some fair girl has smiled or frowned, he slowly retraced his steps to the heavy oaken door. His knock was answered by the same old servant who had admitted him in the morning, and he was shown into a large but very plainly furnished room, \\here De Roberval sat before a table covered with pajjers and charts. The walls of the room were hung with i)ictures of the lumt, of the battle-field, and of religious subjects — the brutality of war strangel)- ranged side by side with the gentle Madonna and the gentler Christ. In one corner stood a statue of Hacchus, in another was a skull and cross-bones. Trophies of the hunt ^1 1 * 42 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL * ■ * I It' were scattered here and there ; and a pair of crossed swords surmounted an ivory crucifix which hung above a well-worn prie-dieu. *' Vanity and ambition," said La Pommeraye to himself as he glanced round the room. The words well summed up De Roberval's character. He would have no man in the nation greater than himself When the famous meeting took place at " The Field of the Cloth of Gold," between Ardres and Guines in Picardy, all the nobles made an effort to rival the splendour of their kings, Henry VHI. and Francis I., and they came to the meeting, as Martin du Bellay has said, " bearing thither their mills, their forests, and their meadows on their backs." Among them all Jean Francois de la Roque, Sieur de Roberval, was the most resplendent. Small in stature, he was handi- capped in the use of the sword ; but by patient practice he had made up for this deficiency, and had won for himself the name of the most skilled swordsman in France. This reputation he had maintained against all comers till he met the man now closeted with him. He envied the King his poetic talent, and would fain have outdone him in the art of poesy. But even with Clement Marot's h.lp he had been utterly unable to woo the fickle muse. He had so stored his mind, however, that his sovereign, the brilliant Marguerite de Nevarre, and the master intellect of that age, Rabelais, all delighted in his society ; and on account of his ability in so many directions, and his evident ambition, Francis had humorously christened him "The Little King of Vinieu." One thing rankled in his ambitious heart : king he could not \ MARGUERITE DE ROBLRVAL 43 be. Let him be as strong, as intellectual, as popular as he might, Francis could always look down on him from the throne. Cartier, although a blunt seaman, had read the man's nature truly, and in endeavouring to win him to his cause, had pointed out the opportunity the New World would give him of reigning an absolute monarch over not a province, but a continent of unlimited extent and wealth. Roberval, like a fool gudgeon, caught at the bait, and had in his own mind fully decided to try the venture. But to impress them with his importance he had called De Pontbriand and La Pommeraye to this meeting to argue the matter with them, and to convince them of the sacrifice he was about to make for his country, and of his reluctance to leave old France. Despite the vanity and ambition of the man, the enthusiasm, courage, and will that De Roberval put into anxthing that he undertook were admir- able qualities, and as La Pommeraye stood look- ing into his stccl-grcy eyes, and admiring his smooth high forehead and finely-chiselled mouth, he felt that he was in the presence of a born leader of men. Roberval acknowledged his greeting with a sternness of manner for which Charles was hardly prepared. " Monsieur is welcome to m)' house," he said frigidly. *' But why need he have taken so long to decide upon entering? I saw you," he added, fixing his keen glance on the young man, " pass twice on the other side of the street." The words were simple enough, but the tone 44 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL It ! "I J.. I 1 S ?• *l told La Pommeraye that there was a world of meaning in them. If he could be ready with the sword he could be equally ready with the tongue. " Sicur de Roberval," he said, meeting the noble- man's eyes with a frank, straightforward gaze, " I am not dull-witted. I see that you have read the meaning of my action, and even though it call down your anger on my head, I will confess myself to you. Your niece was the cause of my walking past and rudely staring at your windows. I love her, and unless some more favoured suitor has already won her heart, I have vowed to prove myself worthy of her hand, if God wills it." " Silence ! " almost shouted De Roberval. " If G ^ \vills it a thousand times, it shall never be. I Will oppu.se it. But why waste words ? " he added in a quieter tone. " My niece would spurn you as she would one of Cartier's savages." " At first, I have no doubt," returned Charles with great suavity. " But, as you say, we waste words. We are met to consult on a great under- taking, and I have told you my intentions that there may be no double-dealing between us. You know me, and you know what I have resolved to do, and if you should not wish to have me join you in this enterprise you can exclude me now. There is plenty of work, or will be soon, for my sword in France, without my taking it to a land where it will only rust in the scabbard." Before De Roberval could make any reply, a heavy knock resounded through the house, and Cartier's voice was heard enquiring of Jean : " Is your master within ? " " Ay, that he is, Monsieur, but I doubt if he will il MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 45 ig receive you. Either the Emperor or our beloved King Francis is with him." " What makes you think that, honest Jean ? " said De Pontbriand's voice. " Why," replied the old servant, " he spoke back to my master ! I heard him with my own ears, and I thought that even the King himself would not do that." "Well, Jean, he has promised to meet with us to-night ; so, King or no King, show us to his room." Not waiting for an answer they pushed towards the door of Roberval's room, which stood slightly ajar. Before they could knock De Roberval threw it open, exclaiming as he did so : " Welcome to our conference." " Behold the King ! " he continued, laughingly pointing to La Pommeraye. " Jean is a strange fellow. I am afraid I should have left him in Picardy ; his tongue wags too much. But he is not far wrong this time. The man who could defeat De Roberval is indeed a monarch among men." There was a steel-like ring in his voice as he spoke ; Carticr and De Pontbriand looked at each other, and both wondered what fate he had in store for La Pommeraye. " But," he continued, " we have much work before us to-night, let us settle down to it at once. I hope, Cartier, you have brought your charts with you, and you, De Pontbriand, your notes." " We have," said the two men in chorus ; " and," added Cartier, " what we have omitted La Pommera)'e, who, in search of adventures, wandered about for several months in the primeval forests, will be able to supply." I <■ i' 1' h I M I; t i I r ! ,, I, i ■■ 46 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL The four heads were soon assiduously studying a rude map which Cartier had spread on the table. Intently they scanned it : Charles and Claude with the fond remembrance of men who had visited those distant, almost unknown, lands ; Cartier with the delight of a man who had before him the continent he had claimed for his King ; and Roberval with the eagerness of one who is about to venture on a mighty undertaking that may ruin his fortunes, or make him the most renowned man in his country. The nobleman's sharp eyes noted the mighty rivers and broad gulfs, feeling that already they were his own. The vastness of the great unknown world took hold on him. The forests of Picardy were like stubble beside these unbroken stretches of wooded country ; and the mightiest river of France was but as a purling brook when compared with the gigantic sweep of the river of Hochelaga, which stretched inland for unknown leagues. Cartier had been watching his countenance, and saw that he was completely won to the enterprise ; but Roberval feigned a lack of enthusiasm. He turned from the map, and with assumed indifference said : " I like not the look of the country. Woods and water, water and woods, are all you have marked on it. I prefer a land of fertile fields and civilised society." " But, noble Sieur, you mistake. It is not all woods and water. This mighty Baie des Chaleurs teems with fish. We filled our boats as we passed along ; and did all Europe take to a fish diet that one bay could supply them. And the woods, Sieur ! They swarm with animals. Mink, ott^.i•, beaver, n MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 47 fox, are as plentiful there as sheep and goats are with us, and as easily captured. There would be no trouble to get their skins, or time lost in hunt- ing them either. The Indians would bring in pelts by hundreds, and all we should need to give them in return would be a few glass beads, metal rings, leaden images, or some gaudy apparel." " Enough, enough ! " said De Roberval im- patiently. " You talk as if you were in the estab- lishment of a St Malo merchant instead of in the house of a nobleman of Picardy." Claude saw that Cartier had over-shot the mark, and so came to the rescue. " The Sieur de Roberval," he said, " must pardon good Master Cartier. He has so long been bring- ing home the wealth of other lands that he is inclined to think of the value of a country by the amount of wealth it can put into the treasury of France." " A very laudable way of thinking, and one of which good King Francis would be the first to approve," replied the nobleman in a gentler tone. " Yes," said Claude, " but not the only thing to consider. This commerce gives us the greatest oppor- tunity any people has ever had. The whole New World is steeped in the most degrading paganism. The Indians have no notion of God, or the Blessed Virgin, or of Christ. And, Sieur, while the treasure from the streams and the forest may bring us reward on earth, the countless souls wc may lead to heaven will win us crowns in eternity." Claude was not a hypocrite. He had begun to speak of the spiritual side of the enterprise with the special purpose of buttressing Cartier's argu- !■? li I 48 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL ment ; but he was a devout Catholic, and his lips only echoed what was in his heart. " Pontbriand," replied Roberval, " you plead like a holy father. We shall have to shave your head and give you a black robe. But there is something in what you say ; though to propagate Christianity effectively in such a land would require enormous wealth." "True, most noble Sieur," said Cartier hastily, " and if the forest and the stream do not yield sufficient we must dig it out of the earth." "What mean you? Have you further informa- tion about the mineral wealth of the New World ? The last you gave me was of little value. Your precious metal has proved to be less valuable than lead, and your diamonds but quartz. See," he said, rising, " how this acid affects your gold." He took from a shelf a piece of metal which Cartier had sent to him. " La Pommera}'e," he said, " you will have to be a right hand for me, and uncork this vial." A drop of the liquid was allowed to fall upon the metal, which at once became discoloured. " No, no ! " exclaimed Roberval. " You will have to try some other bait. I will not go to Canada hoping for gold." " I do not wish to contradict you, Sieur, but test this lump ; " and Cartier, as he spoke, handed him a nugget the size of an egg. Nervously Roberval seized it. It stood the test. " Where ! " he exclaimed in an excited voice, " did }'OU get this ? " " From Donnacona, of whom you have heard, and whom indeed you have seen for yourself," T \ MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 49 )on )Ut led it :e, " And where did Donnacona get it ? " "Far west of his home at Stadacona, and of Hochelaga, too." " I must see him at once," said Roberval. "That will be difficult, Sieur," replied Cartier. " He is in Heaven." "Dead, is he? Well, what good will that nugget do us?" said Roberval, in disgust and disappointment. "We might search for centuries before we could find its mate." " True, Sieur, but where one was found there arc likely to be others. Besides, I have here some- thing that may help us in our search." As he spoke he unrolled a precious chart, scratched on birch bark with some rude weapon, such as a flint arrow-head. " I got this from Donnacona five years ago, and I have kept it from the world till this moment, fearing that calamity might befall it." He spread it on the table, and on one corner rested the tempting nugget. It was a marvellous map ; the map of an unknown world of wonders. " I can swear to the truth of this part at least," said Cartier. " This is Hochelaga, and here are marked the difficult rapids above it. These five inland seas are without doubt in existence. Many Indians have told me of them ; and see, Sieur, this one is incomplete. Donnacona told me that no Indian had ever reached its end ; and yet there arc tales among the Indians of richly-robed men of another race and colour who live beyond these vast western waters. I do not like to conjecture in so great an undertaking, but does it not seem D I i : i ^ I 4 Itt 50 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL probable that we have at last before us the road to the East, and to the Kingdom of the Grand Khan?" " Enough, enough, Cartier ! " said R /al, laughing. " You are too enthusiastic. What next will you have to offer? Already we have had furs, fish, timber, gold, silver, precious stones, and Indian souls. You must think I need great temptation to be lured into this enterprise. But what have we here, to the north of this ocean ? " " I am glad you have noticed that," replied Cartier. " Those rude marks arc the mines. They are of great antiquity ; and Donnacona, who had no idea of the value of the precious metals, spoke of the men of old who dug for metal such as we wore on our fingers, and about our necks. ^ had a fine scorn for such baubles ; and, as if to 'ess us with their worthlessness, stood on the heights of Stadacona, and pointed with pride to the wigwams of his iribe clustering at the foot of the cliff: 'But,' he said, 'the men who wrought the metal are no more. Tvlighty oaks grow from the earth in which they toiled.' " Roberval seemed scarcely to heed this long harangue. He gazed intently at the map, and did not raise his eyes till the voice of La Pommcraye, who had hitherto been silent, broke upon his ear. " What Cartier has told you, Sieur, is true. I too have heard the same tales from very different sources. But, to my mind, Cartier and De Pont- briand, in advocating their expedition, have left out the most important consideration. Spain is already in the New World. Cortez has brought shiploads of gold from Mexico ; Ponce de Leon, J La s ■■■■ !3 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 51 long ^d did ;raye, ^ar. I ferent Icft un is )ught .eon, ^ Garay, Vasquez de Ayllon, and Hernando dc Soto have all brought home talcs of treasure and wonder ; and if France does not make haste she will find herself one of the least among European Powers. Besides, let us build up a nation in the New World, and we may have some more fighting. The rumours of war that flit up and down in France are mere woman's talk. My blade is rusting in the scabbard, and now that the Emperor and King Francis are complimenting each other like two schoolgirls, it is long likely to remain so. But in the New World there will be a glorious opportunity for a struggle with Spain. The Spaniard already claims the whole of Amet ica, and will fight for every inch of it. A strong man could found a mighty empire on the banks of the Hochelaga, and have all the fighting his heart could desire. I should like to be lieutenant to such a man." " And you shall be," said De Roberval, firmly. " Gentlemen, I have decided. To-morrow I depart to hold an interview with King Francis. Meet me here in three weeks, and I will report my success. He owes me a heavy debt, and will, I have no doubt, fit out and man a fleet for us, and give me full power over Canada." The three men rose. Cartier and De Pontbriand made their adieus and left the room ; but before La Pommeraye could follow them, the touch of Roberval's hand on his shoulder arrested him. The door closed on the other two, and Roberval, without resuming his seat, remarked, in a not unkindly tone : " You are a brave youth ! I admire your courage, and shall be glad to have you join me in this f !! 6 -1 ) ■ n si 1 ,' ' 11' ' r I u 52 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL expedition. But one thing I must have distinctly understood : This romantic attachment you fancy you have conceived for my niece — I must hear no more of it. You have seen her but once, and under circumstances which make it unlikely that you will ever meet her again. Your time will be fully occupied in preparations for our depart'jre ; as for her, I shall see that she leaves St Malo at once. Go, now, and prove yourself indeed a man of honour by attempting to see no more of her. I warn you, you will rue the day you cross my will." The young soldier merely bowed in silence and left the room. As he stepped into the long hall he noticed two figures standing close to each other in the dim licrht at the farther end. Thev seemed to be engaged in close conversation. He recog- nised Claude, and his heart sank within him, for he thought the second figure was Marguerite. De Roberval was following close behind him, and, with a generous impulse to shield his friend, Charles placed his giant proportions immediately in front of the little nobleman. But when they reached the street door he was rejoiced to find Marie standing there, apparently bidding good- bye to Claude. " Where is Marguerite ? " said De Roberval sternly. "In her room, Sieur." " I thought I saw her here a moment ago." "You must have mistaken me for her, Sieur," replied Marie, unhesitatingly, "as I but this moment left her." "Strange," thought La Pommeraye, as the two young men left the house together, " that we f y MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 53 ;rval this two we I should both have made the same mistake ; but doubtless we were both thinking of her. But that fair damsel in the hall is not the style of beauty by which I should have thought Claude would be attracted. However, so much the better for me. The coast is now clear, I hope." " Claude," he said, after they had walked a little distance in silence, " I saw you as I came out into the hall. You seemed to be holding a very absorbing conversation with that fair lady — a friend of Mdlle de Roberval's, I conclude. May I be permitted to ask her name ? " Claude did not answer for a few moments, and La Pommeraye noticed that his face wore an expression of anxiety and doubt. At length he said : " That is Mdlle de Vignan — the Sieur de Roberval's ward. She lives with him, and is the constant companion of his niece." " Marie de Vignan ? " exclaimed Charles. " The daughter of Aubrey de Vignan who was killed in action five years ago ? " " The same." " I would I had known it was she ! Yet how could I recognise her ? — I have not seen her since I held her in my arms, a mischievous little elf of five years old, when I used to be a constant visitor at her father's house. It was ; second home to me — indeed, more of a liome than I have ever known elsewhere, before or since. And that is my little friend and playmate ! I congratulate you, Claude. If she has inherited anything of her father's nature and her mother's sweetness she will be indeed a jewel." id IS^! i •!! S4 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL To his surprise Claude made no reply ; and the two friends walked on in silence. La Pommeraye asked no more questions, and his friend was evidently not desirous of volunteering any further information. They shortly overtook Cartier, who was waiting for them, and the incident was forgotten for the present in the discussion of their plans for the proposed voyage. ! I the ;raye was rther who was their CHAPTER V 'i T^HREE weary weeks dragged themselves along. Cartier was all impatience for definite informa- tion about the King's attitude towards the Canadian expedition, while Charles and Claude were both eager, for reasons c^ their own, for the return of De Roberval's niece arid his ward, whom he had taken to Fontainebleau with him. The three weeks lengthened into a fourth, the fourth into a fifth, and the adventurers were beginning to despair, when the faithful Jean appeared at the inn where Charles and his friend were lodged, bearing a note from his master. De Roberval had returned, and success had crowned his efforts. The King had given him full power to make preparations — but they must come to him at once to receive instructions, and hear from his own lips the generosity of their noble monarch. Eagerly the two young men hurried to tell Cartier the good news ; and the three proceeded to Roberval's house, where they found him in high spirits. He had received more than he had asked. Anne de Montmorency had been with the King, and a friendship which had been begun at ' The Field of the Cloth of Gold " had made him ^ S6 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL an ardent supporter of the little nobleman from Picardy. The King was won to the glorious cause of extending French territory, and of winning souls. He bade Roberval return to St Malo, hurry on his preparations, collect his crews, and await his official commission, which would follow him as soon as the necessary legal proceedings could be gone through. In the meantime a letter signed by the King's own hand gave him all the power he needed. " You are about to settle a new world for France," he had said to Roberval ; " our right of colonisation is ^rmly established there, and the sword and the cross will make us strong. To keep you bold in arms, and firm in the faith, I present you with this sword which the saintly Bayard laid upon my shoulders with the words : ' He who has been crowned, consecrated, and anointed with oil sent down from Heaven, he who is the eldest son of the Church, is knight over all other knights' — and with this golden cross, which encases a fragment of the true cross — these dints on it are from Spanish blows ; thrice did it save my life on the field of Pavia of unhappy memories — with this talisman you may hope to succeed in the great land of Norembega." The three enthusiastic listeners congratulated him on his success, but without heeding them he went on : " That is not all. Hear the substance of tliis letter, signed with his royal hand. A ^fleet is to be fitted out at once ; the governors of all the provinces are to aid in securing arms ; and I " — the little nobleman seemed to grow several inches as he uttered the words — " I am created Lord of MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 57 Norembega, Viceroy and Lieutenant-General in Canada, Hochelaga, Saguenay, Newfoundland, Eelle Isle, Carpunt, Labrador, the Great Bay, and liaccalaos." As he rolled off this imposing list of titles La Pommeraye's sense of humour got the better of him. The rugged, uninviting land which he knew so well rose vividly before him ; and the high- sounding terms which were heaped upon it in no way lessened its ruggedness. He turned to Roberval, and with a merry twinkle in his blue eye exclaimed : " King Francis is truly generous, most noble Sieur de Nor — you must pardon a soldier's tongue and memory ; I shall have to shorten your titles — Sieur of the Universe ; but there are difficulties in the way. I have sounded the fishermen and sailors of St Malo, and none seem willing to cross the stormy Atlantic as settlers. If we could lure them across for fish, or furs, or gold, it would be well ; but all dread the fierce cold and the scurvy to which so many of their companions have already succumbed." " It matters not," said Roberval ; " I have full power to raise men, and the sturdy beggars — and, if all other resources fail, the denizens of our prisons — shall be forced on board my vessels." " Sieur, that will be a dangerous experiment," interrupted Cartier. " I had three criminals with me on my last voyage, and the)' poisoned the minds of nearly every other man on the ship." " You forget," said Roberval, " that I am commander in this expedition. An iron hand falls upon the man who disobeys my slightest wish. Criminals are but men ; and thc^- will find that no t ■ I ;] i i I I 58 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL I! I ordinary turnkey watches over them. But why borrow troubles? Let us to work and build our ships, get the stores on board, and man them, and the other difficulties can then be faced. We have three ships now, Master Cartier. Set your carpen- ters to work on two others at once, and build them with particular reference to the Atlantic passage and the dangers from the ice. You had better consult with Jehan Alfonse. You are both skilled seamen, and what one overlooks the other will be sure to provide for." He then proceeded to intrust to Claude the task of superintending the purchase of supplies. Enough provision would be needed for three hundred men for a year at least ; and it would be necessary to see that cvcrytliing could be hurried into St Malo at a moment's notice. " And you, M. de la Pommerayc," he added, turning to Charles, " as you seem to have already taken it upon yourself to seek men for this expedition, have my authority to go into every vessel in the harbour, or in any harbour in France, and offer the men double their present wage ; and if that will not induce them, go to the prisons and select such men as you think fit. You know a man when you see him ; and this letter with the King's seal will open the prison gates before you. For my- self, I must away to Picardy to set my estate in order. I shall return with all possible speed ; mean- time spare no efforts to hasten our preparations." So the three men were dismissed, and as Claude and Charles were about to leave the house they looked stealthily round the hall. But no flutter of skirts nor any trace of woman's occupation MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 59 rewarded them. Roberval noticed their glances, and as he bade them farewell he said, somewhat roughly : " St Male is a dangerous place for women. I have left my niece at Court. If our great undertaking is to succeed, nothing must be allowed to distract our attention from our plans. No other cares must be allowed to interfere with our sole object in view — to increase the glory and renown of our beloved country." The three men passed into the narrow streets, each absorbed in his own reflections. Carticr saw in imagination his name on the pages of histor}', next to that of Columbus. Claude had but one immediate end in view — to plan how he might extend his expeditions for supplies as far as Fontainebleau, while as for Charles, since the only way to reach Marguerite appeared to be b}' win- ning the good opinion of her uncle, he resolved, as a first step in that direction, to devote his whole energies to the task he had in hand. Winter swiftly passed, spring lengthened to summer ; summer was on the wane, and still the New World seemed no nearer. The ships were completed, and the empty hulls rode in the harbour of St Malo awaiting supplies and arms. But the money promised by the King was not forthcoming ; and Cartier reluctantly prepared to spend another winter in old France. The prisons of St Malo were crowded to overflowing with criminals for the voyage ; for only a few hardy adventurers had been secured by La Pommeraye. In August Roberval paid a flying visit to his fleet, inspected the vessels and men, and expressed him- self strongly on the slowness of the King in (1 I ! i ■ II I 60 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL keeping his promise. It would be useless to start for America during the autumn months ; so he made up his mind to pay a second visit to Fontainebleau, see what could be done in view of the following spring, and take his niece and ward back to Picardy with him for the winter. While he was in St Malo his steps were dogged, unknown to him, by a swarthy young mariner who had been engaged for the voyage. He had a French name, but a Spanish face ; and Cartier, meeting him one day in the street, exclaimed : '■ Pamphilo de Narvaez, or his ghost ! " " I have been twice mistaken for that Spaniard, whose name I never heard till I came to this place," said the young man. " My name is Narcisse Belleau. Narvaez' bones lie at the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico — at least so M. de la Pommeraye told me when he engaged me for this vo}'age." " A most remarkable resemblance ! " returned Cartier. " I would as soon have the Devil on board La Grande Hermine as De Narvaez. Be sure, young man, you join one of the other vessels. Belleau is your name, you say ? A good name, but a Narvaez face ! " As he turned away the young Spaniard, for such he was, chuckled to himself: "A good name, indeed ! And you and your fellows will rue the day you ever looked upon this face." He was in very truth Pamphilo de Narvaez, a son of the famous sailor of that name, and had been sent as a spy from the Spanish Court to discover if the rumours of a mighty expedition being fitted out to occupy the New World — i (', MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 6i i Spain's peculiar property — were true. Seeing that Roberval was the soul of the undertaking, he determined to bide his time, strike him down, and save Spain a bloody war in America. He learned that Roberval meant to visit Fontainebleau, and from there to set out with his niece for Picardy. A meeting on the road, with a few dare-devils to aid him, would end the expedition and win him honours and prosperity on his return to Spain. So he planned ; and when he had succeeded he would go to America and finish the work of explora- tion begun by his illustrious father. In the meantime Claude and Charles, committing their stores and prisoners to the charge of Cartier, left St Malo, neither telling the other whither he was bound. By different roads, and almost simul- taneously, they turned their horses' heads towards Paris ; both hoping to meet Roberval and his party as they passed through that city on their way to their northern home. They reached their destina- tion without encountering each other, took lodgings in adjoining streets, and, each unconscious of the other's presence, set out to make enquiries as to when the nobleman might be expected. Had they had long to wait they must have met ; but one November dny, very shortly after their arrival, a gay crowd of riders came galloping through the streets of the city. Their fluttering pennants, their nodding plumes, their gorgeous doublets and richly- ornamented cloaks, their finely damascened arms, studded with jewels, and their horses, as richly caparisoned as themselves, all told that they had come from the fashionable world of the Court at Fountainebleau. ■ i! 1 il V'' -i»| I/) ::ii ; I f- i f ! |i 62 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL Such was indeed the case ; they had come to escort De Roberval and his household thus far on their northward way. The two young men learned where Roberval was to pass the night, and also that he intended to depart early the following morning, and each returned to his rooms, deter- mined to be up with the lark in order to obtain at least a glimpse of the fair lady who had drawn him to Paris. But Roberval was up before them ; and armed from head to heel, and with a bodyguard of a few sturdy Picards, had already left the city. Claude was the first to reach the nobleman's headquarters, and, on learning of Robcrval's departure only a few moments before, set spurs to his horse, hoping to overtake him before he could get clear of the walls. On arriving at the gate, however, he learned that the party had already passed through. There were three roads which would lead them to the ancient and renowned castle which frowned down upon the fruitful plains between the Bresle and the Somme. The nobleman had selected the longest route, but the safest in those troublous times. Claude paused for a few moments to consider this information. He, too, was fully armed, and wore a breastplate of steel beneath his riding cloak. His splendid figure, and the magnificent manner in which he sat his horse, caused some remark among the guards at the gate, of whom he made his enquiries. His resolution was soon taken. He decided to follow by the western and rougher road, which merged into the other at a distance of some miles. He would thus gain a point in ad- vance of Roberval, after a few hours' hard riding, i MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 63 then he would at least have the satisfaction of forming one of the escort as far as the castle. He set out accordingly ; and scarcely- was he out of sight when a second rider came up to the gates. When he found that he was too late even for a sight of his goddess, Charles had impulsively started in pursuit, though what he hoped to gain even if he did succeed in overtaking her, guarded as she was, he had no definite idea. The sentinel whom he questioned told him the direction Roberval had taken, and added the further infor- mation that a single horseman had but just ridden in hot haste after him, by a different route. A suspicion instantly flashed through Charles' mind, and the description of Claude furnished by the man left no doubt as to the rider's identity. Without stopping to consider the wisdom of his course — thinking onl}' of Marguerite, whom he could not hope to see once she was behind those battlemented walls — Charles turned his horse, and galloped off by the third of the three roads mentioned. It was a shorter cut than either of the other two, but one which few travellers ever took, as every mile had witnessed some deed of violence from the bands of robbers who haunted it. Roberval and his party made their way leisurely along the dusty road the)- had chosen, while the two young men rode with fevered haste along their less frequented paths. Towards noon the three were ra[)idly converging towards the same point, at which tb.ey would arrive almost simultaneously. Claude, who was mounted on a swift charger, which had more than once carried him to victory 1^1 'i^! : I 64 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL in a tournament, was the first to reach this point. Scanning the ground he noted that no cavalcade had as yet passed that way. As he sat his horse and waited, the measured galloping of hoofs com- ing towards Paris fell upon his ears. He did not wish to meet strangers, so withdrew into a thick grove at one side of the road. Scarcely was he concealed when half a dozen hard riders, well horsed and armed at every point, drew rein at the very spot where he had first checked his steed. They surveyed the road hurriedly, and at a word from their leader plunged into a thicket at the opposite side. " There is trouble in store for some one," said Claude to himself. " If I am not much mistaken, the leader of that gang of cut-throats is none other than Narcisse Belleau, whom, despite his good French and vehement protestations, I believe to be a Spanish spy. And now to my dagger and sword ; I may need them. I would La Pommeraj'e were only here to lend his eye and arm to the coming struggle." Scarcely had he finished examining his weapons when a cloud of dust slowly advancing in the distance told him that a party of considerable size was on its way towards the ambuscade. He anxiously awaited their approach, and soon rccofr- nised Robcrval's Picard escort, and the fl skirts of the women. If the men in '^' waiting for them they \\'ere doo could warn them. To pass from hi ulin^ almost instant death, but it must be ri.sked began slowly to make his way towards tli> road, and was soon at the very edge of the grove. When ht .cant so he MARGUERITE DE ROBERVA] 65 he ant he ad. De Roberval was withui a hundred yards he put spurs to his horse, which, seeming to scent danger, made a dash forward past the lurking-place of the assassins. The Spaniard and his comrades were so taken by surprise that for a moment they did not realise his intentions ; but De Narvaez, with an oath, exclaimed : "It is De Pontbriand ; shoot the dog down ! " Their petroiiels rang out, but the clumsy weapons shot wide of the mark, and in a trice Claude was with his friends, who, alarmed by the firing, and the wild rush of the approaching rider, had come to a sudden standstill, l^cfore they had time to question De Pontbriand the Spaniards were upon them, and with fierce shouts and drawn swords dashed into the group which now formed a protecting body about Marguerite, Marie, and Bastienne. There was a sudden checking of careering steeds, a clashing of weapons, a heavy falling of wounded men, and three of De Roberval's party and one of the foe lay in the dust. As De Narvaez shot past he placed his petronel against his breast and fired point blank at De Roberval, but quick-witted Bastienne, who saw his intention, struck her master's horse on the nose, and the animal, careering wildl)', received the contents of the charge in the heart. The Spaniards rapidly returned to the attack. There were now but five of them opposed to the three Picards who remained with Claude and Rober\al, and they expected an easy victory. Two of the Picards fell before their attack, and De Roberval himself was struck down by a fierce sabre blow which dinted his helmet. Claude found himself hard pressed by two of the ruffians at once. It must end in a moment. £ 66 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL But the shots which had been fired attracted a traveller who was always eager for a fray. Just at the critical moment La Pommeraye's horse turned the bend in the road. His accustomed eye took in the state of affairs at once. His sword leaped from its sheath, and with an energy which he seldom needed to exei*" he braced himself for the struggle. He was upon Claude's assailants in an instant ; one quick thrust and a burly Spaniard fell forward on his face. The weapon seemed scarcely to have touched the man, S' ; quickly w as it withdrawn ; and with the same motion that drew it forth La Pommera)'c sent it crashing through the helmet of the other rufiian. De Xar\ae/ and his two companions saw that they were foiled, and, strik- ing fiercel}' at Claude, who fell beneath their united blows, they turned to flee. But they had lost a second too m'lch. That last blow was their ruin. Charles was upon them like a whirlwind. His sword flashed like a dcstro}ing sunbeam, and two others fell lifeless on the road, while their steetls galloped wildly awa)'. De Narvaez turned to face his foe ; and his dark face blanched beneath the fierce e}e of the French giant. It was but a moment. Charles crossed swords with him ; once, twice — and as if ho had been sa}'ing " One, two three, die!" he plunged his blade through and tlirough the bod)' of the sp)'. "Hot work, but glorious!" he exclaimed, as the Si)aniard fell heavil)' in the dust. " J^ve in as many minutes. Ikit 1 must look to ni)- friends." Bastienne was sitting with her master's head in her laj). Marie had taken off Claude's helmet and revealed a ghastly wound on the temple. MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 67 two and Marguerite stood beside her horse, shading her eyes with her hand, her face tense and strained as she watched the issue of the combat. It was not till the victor, flushed but triumphant, his gay riding-suit covered with blood and dust, advanced, and doffing his hat almost to the ground bowed low before her, that she recognised La Pommeraye. "Mademoiselle is uninjured, I trust?" said Charles. The blood had mounted to her cheek as she saw in their preserver her rude assailant of nearly a year before, but she kept the quiet dignity of her manner. Drawing off one glove she held out her hand, saying as she did so : " Monsieur, under God we owe you all our lives. But for )'our timel}' appearance, what would have become of three defenceless women when my uncle fell?" The delicate lingers lay for a moment in La Pommerayc's mighty grasp, as he raised them reverently to his lips, hardly believing in his own good - fortune. The}' were instantly withdrawn, however, and Marguerite hastened to her uncle's side. De Robcrval was onl)- stunned, and nn'ght safely be left to J^astienne's skill. It was otherwise with Claude. The wound was a severe one, as Charles instantly recognised. "Pardon me," he said to Marie, who, less self- controlled than Marguerite, had given way, once the crisis had passed, and was weeping hystcricalK-, "pardon me, Mademoiselle, but I must lift him out of the heat and dust." With tender hands he raised his comrade, and H ' ' I H 68 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL carried him into the shade. He was a skilled surgeon — taught by frequent experience — and with help from the women soon had the wound bandaged. In the meantime Roberval had re- covered from his swoon, and was rubbing his eyes with amazement at the strange turn events had taken. " How came you here ? " exclaimed he to La Pommeraye " My evil genius prompted me to come to the aid of an ungiateful nobleman," replied Charles, laughingly. " But it was just as well for you that I did. However, it was a grand fight ; and could I only have one like it every day in France, you would not get me to go to Canada. But I will not equivocate, Sieur," he added in a lower voice, drawing Roberval a little aside, " I came here, as no doubt did De Pontbriand, who was, I believe, in Paris yesterday, to accompany you on your way to Picardy. Why, you know best, but we cannot speak of it now." Dc Roberval scowled, and then exclaimed with enthusiasm : " You are a noble fellow ! There were five against us when I fell, and now your bloody sword tells a heroic tale. But here, Etienne," and he turned to his only surviving retainer, who had stood all this time staring stupidly at La Pommeraye as if he had been a god suddenly descended from the sk)', " look to the wounded, and you, Bastienne, help him. Are all my brave fellows dead? See \\hat can be done, and then ride like the wind to the inn, five leagues ahead of us, and fetch men to bury the dead and bear I ( ^1> MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 69 the wounded home. But what is this ? De Pontbriand wounded ? " Claude was still unconscious. He was borne to the inn on a rude litter of boughs, and there La rommcra\'e watched and tended him till he was out of danger. But he was still too weak to be moved, and with the wretched accommodation and attendance which the inn afforded, his recovery bade fair to be slow. Seeing this, De Roberval had him removed to his castle, which was but a few leagues distant, and there Charles, who was not included in the invitation, was reluctantly obliged to leave his friend and return to St Malo alone, lie would have been much more reluctant had not the tears which Marie had shed, as he imagined, over Claude's body, convinced him still more firmly that she was the object of his affection. And so it happened that Claude spent a large part of the winter in Picardy, watched over and waited upon, as his strength slowly returned, by the fair hands of Marguerite de Roberval and her vivacious friend and companion, Marie de Vignan. t i " CHAPTER VI I 1^ '\ TXT" INTER went swiftly, and towards the spring Claude's strength came slowly back to him. The physician who waited on him, however, ordered perfect rest during the summer months ; and so, when news came that Cartier had his five ships all ready for sea, stored with provisions and fully manned, he had reluctantly to consent to remain behind in France. But he was not to remain alone. De Roberval could not go to make a permanent colonisation in America without abundant firearms, artillery, and munitions of war. But the gay life of the Court had exhausted the royal treasury, and for the moment it .seemed as if all his preparations had been in vain. King Francis, however, was as eager to colonise the New World as was Roberval himself, and he despatched a messenger to St Malo, commanding Cartier to start with what preparations he had made, and promising to send Roberval shortly after with three ships fully equipped w I' h powder to store a magazine, balls to last for years, and guns sufficient and strong enough to ably protect the destined colony. De Roberval was not in St Malo when the news arrived, but La Pommcra\'c was, and the chance to 70 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 71 bear the message to Picardy himself was too good to be lost. On reaching the castle he found, to his great disappointment, that Marguerite had been for some time in Paris, while Claude had long before re- turned to his own home in Rouen. De Roberxal was still there, however, completing his final pre- parations for departure. He went into a white rage at the news of the enforced dela}- ; but there was no help for it. So he sent Charles back to tell Cartier to start at once, and to expect him in the autumn. In the meantime he was to plant seed, build his f(jrts, and make ready platforms for heavy pieces and a well-protected powder magazine. It .so happened that Marie was still at the castle. Marijuerite had crone to an aunt in Paris, and her friend was to join her with De Robcrval as soon as the latter had finally wound up his affairs and arranged for the management of his estate. During the few da\'s which Charles spent in Picardy he was thrown a good deal with Mdlle. de Vignan, and with an almost bo}M'sh impulse he took her into his confidence, and told her his seemingl}' hopeless love for Marguerite. In his enthusiasm he scarcely noticed how little encourage- ment she gave him, or else he interpreted her silence as a favourable sign. But wlien he was gone, the large-hearted and impressionable girl stood looking after him till he and his horse were a mere speck in the distaiice, and then she went to her own room, shut herself up, and wept bitterl)-. One week later Cartier was on his wa\' to Hochelaga, and Charles, sunk in reverie, stood by his side on the deck of La Grande Heniiinc, and, i \\ i ; 1 ^1 i'j 72 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL with eyes fixed on the shores they were leaving, heard not a word that Cartier uttered. The New World had lost its charms for him. His soul would know no content till he was once more back in France, or at least till he was once more within reach of Marguerite de Roberval. Through May and June the vessels swept across the ocean, and without mishap entered the Gulf of St Lawrence, and sailed up the broad river of Hochclaga. The explorers landed at Cap Rouge, and began to clear the forest, sow turnip seed, and build forts. When the work was well under way, leaving Vicomte de Beaupre in charge at Cap Rouge, Cartier and La Pommeraye went on a voyage of exploration into the interior of the country, hoping on their return to find De Roberval at the fort. All this time De Roberval was busy rushing up and down France ; but the King was slow in open- ing the nation's purse, and winter came without any preparations having been made to follow Cartier. Roberval chafed under the disappoint- ment, but was powerless to do an}'thing. During the summer he had formed the sudden and surprising resolution of taking his niece and ward to Canada with him. The announcement of this plan occasioned a good deal of astonishment, but Roberval would listen to no remonstrances. Special accommodation would have to be arranged for them on board his ship, and the)- must learn to put up with hardships, and to accustom them- selves to the life of colonists. It might be years before his return to France, and he had fully decided not to leave them behind. Whatever his I '"& MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 73 purpose may really have been, he had evidently made up his mind, and was not to be turned aside from his determination. The girls themselves asked nothing better. Full of the spirit of youth and adventure, they looked forward with delight to the prospect of a share in an expedition on which the eyes and hopes of half France were centred, and eagerly they set about making their prepara- tions for departure. In the meantime, however, one day in the early part of November, De Roberval was surprised by a request from Claude de Pontbriand — now fully restored to health — for permission to pay his addresses to Marguerite. His rejection of the pro- posal was so prompt, and couched in such emphatic terms, that Claude was utterly taken aback. He was poor, and had hesitated long to declare his love, supposing that his poverty would naturally be an objection to him in Roberval's eyes ; but in respect of birth and position he was fully Marguerite's equal, and now that she was about to accompany her uncle to Canada, where, in a new sphere of life, all would be placed upon a more equal footing, he had gained courage to offer him- self as her suitor. But De Roberval not only re- fused to listen to him, but dismissed him in such haughty terms that the young man's pride rebelled, and he demanded an explanation. High words ensued, and a quarrel was only averted by Claude's diplomacy and presence of mind in recollecting that in the event of a duel his case would indeed be hopeless. But he was at a loss for an explana- tion of the rude reception with which his proposal had been met. il 74 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL t .1 11" li *i Marguerite, however, had a key to the enigma. She had heard from her old nurse how, years before, her uncle had been madly infatuated with Claude's mother, and how that noble lady had refused his hand, and had married instead the poor but handsome young Captain Maurice de Pontbriand. The bitter grudge which Roberval owed the name had seemingly come to life again at the idea of uniting one of his family with the son of his successful rival. His temper, too, was irritated by the protracted delay in getting his expedition under way, and by the many harass- mcnts with which he was forced to contend. The discovery that Claude had already won his niece's affections added fuel to the fire of his wrath, and he forbade all further interviews or communications between the lovers. Marguerite had so long implicitly }-iclded to the strong will of her uncle — whom she revered as a father, having known no other — that she never thought of attempting disobedience. She wrote to Claude, who would have persuaded her to meet him by stealth, begging him to wait, even if she had to go to America without him. For, since this quarrel with De Roberval, it would be impossible for Claude to take passage in the same ship, but he could easily follow her. In the New World all the conditions of life would be changed, and, once there, they might hope to win her uncle's consent to their union. Claude, though ill-content with this arrange- ment, saw nothing for it but to bide his time. He made no further effort to see Marguerite for the present, but kept a careful watch over De MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 75 Robcrval's movements, that he might know to a certainty when he intended to sail. Winter came, and still the King did nothing. De Roberval was in Paris with his household, and Claude had taken up his quarters in the same city. At length tidings came which made De Roberval's heart bound with hope once more. The King had at last roused himself; nay, he had alread) pur- chased three ships — three noble vessels — and they even now lay in the harbour of La Rochelle, ready for Roberval to equip and man. This was late in February. All through March the nobleman superintended the storing of the powder, the load- ing of the guns, and the procuring of the crews. This last was no easy matter. Ikit few of the hardy French sailors would venture on the voyage, and in despair Roberval was compelled to get together his crews and colonists almost entirely from the prisons. Early in April everything was completed ; and | one bright morning the three vessels stole out through the surrounding islands, caught the last glimpse of the lantern tower, and sailed away for America. Marguerite and Marie, with the faithful l^astienne, stood on the deck of Do Robcrval's ship, gazing back at the shores of La Belle France. A cloud seemed to hang over their departure, and it had none of the jo}'ous excitement they had anticipated. Marguerite was torn asunder between her love for Claude and her ideas of duty to her uncle. A message from De Poutbriand had assured her that he intended to join the expedition, and she supposed him to have managed to embark on one of the other ships ; but her heart was heavy within her \ ■1^ I 76 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 5 I ^ W i ,9 at the thought of her uncle's vengeance when he should find it out. She could not even be certain that he had embarked at all, and she was leaving France, perhaps for ever, without a farewell word from his lips. Marie had her own inward perplexities. In the New World for which they were bound they would be certain to encounter La Pommeraye, and the secret she had so faithfully kept for him weighed heavily on her mind. She had several times been on the point of telling Marguerite, but for some reason or other she shrank from uttering his name. Her feelings towards him had undergone a change, which had the effect of making her shun all mention of the man whose praises had once been perpetuall) on her lips. She foresaw that nothing but unhappiness for herself could result from meet- ing him again, and yet she could not restrain a throb of the heart when his stalwart form and handsome features rose before her. The two girls stood in silence, their eyes fixed on the fast-receding shore. Old Bastienne, beside them, was dissolved in tears. She would not have deserted her young mistress ; but at her age to leave her native land and face the perils of a new and unknown countr)' was a sore trial. As the beloved shores faded into a blue haze on the horizon, a familiar step was heard on the deck approaching the mournful little group. Marguerite turned, with a sudden thrill at her heart, and beheld De Pontbriand. Astonishment left her no words with which to greet him. Marie recovered herself first. " M. de Pontbriand ! " she exclaimed, " how did you get here ? " ( MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 77 to " Easily enough," replied Claude. " I simply came on board last night, and kept out of sight till this moment. Now that I am here, and we arc so far from land, the Sieur dc Roberval can hardly refuse me accommodation. I suppose he will scarcely go the length of throwing me overboard." " You do not know my uncle, Claude," said Marguerite, anxiously. " I tremble for )-our first meeting with him. He is not used to being thwarted. Pray Heaven )'ou and he may not quarrel any further. He is a dangerous man, if once his will is opposed." Almost as she spoke De Roberval appeared on deck and at once came towards them. Then followed a stormy scene. Claude begged for an interview in De Roberval's private cabin. Alone with the indignant nobleman, he tried to calm his wrath, but explanations and persuasions were alike in vain. At last, anxious on Marguerite's account, and fearing lest her uncle might suspect her of complicity in a plot to secure his presence on board, and wreak his vengeance on her as well, Claude resolved on a compromise. " Hear me, Sieur," he said firmly, in a voice which commanded attention. " I love your niece, as }-ou know, and I would follow her though you took her to the end of the world. Ikit fbr her sake, and to prove to you that she is innocent of all connivance at my being here, I will avoid her society for the rest of the vo)'agc. It will be enough to see her at a distance, and to know that she is safe. You need fear no further intrusion from me, at all events until the New World is reached. I give you my word." i m j m i 78 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL , i II I ' t ■ I I \ h f n I V De Robcrval's rage had so completely mastered him that speech seemed to have almost deserted him. His words came thickly. " Go, sir," he said at last, pointing to the door, "and take heed how you break )'our promise. If you dare to address my niece as a lover again on this voyage, you die. And when we reach the New World I will take excellent care that you are sent about your business. Remember what I say. If I hear that you have disobeyed me I will, despite )'our noble blood, hang you to the yard- arm, as the first example of the fate which will surely overtake the man who dares to thwart a De Roberval." With great difficulty Claude restrained himself under this insulting language, which nothing but his anxiety for Marguerite could have induced him to bear. I le knew that De Roberval was quite capable of executing his threats ; and he was sufficiently cool to reflect that if he provoked him farther Marguerite's position would be infinitely worse, while there was no hope that anything could be accomplished by force. He therefore compelled himself to bow in silence, and took his departure. As he left the cabin, he noticed a sleek, shift- less-looking individual, with spy stamped on every line of his face, standing b}' the open gangway. He had a sickly-green complexion, and, as if to match its hue, he was clad in a shabby green jerkin, rough green cap, green doublet, and hose of the same colour. It was Michel Gaillon, the first criminal to die on Canadian soil. He had so far escaped the hand of the law, but was, even as he MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 79 stood there, being hunted liigh and low for a brutal murder. He carried no rapier. Had he possessed such a weapon he would probably have feared to draw it lest he might injure himself; but as a poisoner he was without a peer in France. A crime had been brought home to him ; he saw that it would cost him his neck ; and he had contrived to stow himself away on board UHcurcux, and was now on his way to explain his presence to De Roberval, trusting to luck and his sharp wits to win his way into the good graces of that nobleman. He had heard every word which had passed, and he saw at once that he would have a field for his diabolical machinations. Could Claude have seen the leer with which the ghastly apparition followed him as he passed, he would have shuddered with a sense of approaching danger. He did not look back, however, and the JMan in Green, having re- quested an audience with De Roberval, was admitted to the cabin. De Roberval's hand went to his sword as he be- held the extraordinary figure and sinister counten- ance of his visitor. "Who are you, and what brings )-ou here?" said he sternly. " You are not one of m}- crew." " May it please }-ou, most noble Sieur," said the man, bowing low, " I have come to offer my services as physician to your expedition. I am well versed in drugs, and with the knife no man in France is more skilful. I have restored life to the Due d'Orleans, when the Court physician gave him up; and " " Enough ! " said De Roberval, who had not re- moved his keen gaze from the man's face for an ;;'■( 8o MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL !■' r ) I i 1 1 instant " Enough ! I have heard of you. You are Gaillon, the poisoner ! " The man leaped back trembling as he heard his own name. " I knew you the instant my eyes fell upon you," pursued De Roberval. " You have come on board to escape the fate which awaits you in France. If I did my duty I should order you to be thrown overboard this moment." The wretch stood cowering. " Most noble Sieur," he faltered, " 1 have fled from France to lead a new life in a new world." " Silence, liar ! " thundered De Roberval. " You have fled from France to escape death for the murder of Paul d'Auban. You see I know your character. But it has occurred to me," he went on, with a grim smile, "that I shall need an executioner in my colony before man)' months, and )'ou would probably answer my purpose. Go ! " he added, his brow contracting with sudden anger, "leave my sight, and look that you do not attempt any of your schemes while you are on board this vessel. As long as }'ou do as I command )'ou, you need fear nothing ; but disobey me, and I will w^ind a devil's cravat round your neck, and be doing God a service by sending you from Mis blessed earth." The astonished criminal slunk from the room. As he ascended the gangway he reflected to him- self that in leaving his pursuers in La Rochelle he seemed to lia\-e leaped from the fr\ing-pan into the fire. But he saw his way clearl)- before him. He would in the meantime obc)- Roberval's lightest whim ; and when an opportunit}' presented itself he would so ingratiate himself int'i the good i & MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 8i ( the opinion of the nobleman as to be made his confidant. He had unHmited confidence in his own powers, and an ambition which knew no bounds. Fate seemed to favour him. Alread\- he had overheard an interview which had put him in possession of some of Roberval's most intimate affairs. He would bide his time, and wait for a chance to make use of his knowledge. Some days passed without event. Claude kej)t carefully to the letter of his promise, and avoided as much as possible the societ)' of the two girls. He shared the quarters of an old school-friend, Paul d'Auxhillon, anid rarel)' went on deck when it was at all probable that the women would be there. They had been steering westward over moderately calm seas for nearly a week, when, on a glorious moonlight night, the breeze stiffened, and the little vessel began to pitch on the rising waves. The cabin was close at all times, but at night Claude nearly always spent most of his time on deck. On this particular night he had no desire for sleep, and midnight found him still pacing to and fro, watching the glitter of the moonlight on the dancing waters. Just about twelve o'clock Marguerite, ojapressed by the close air between decks, and rendered dizzy by the slight pitching of the \essel, stole softly from her cabin, without disturbing Marie, and sought the open air. She had not been long on deck before she became aware of the presence of a man who was not one of the common sailors. For a moment she thought the motionless figure with its back towards her was her uncle ; but a F 'I 1* I f'i ' • ) 82 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL second glance told her it was De Pontbriand. She moved noiselessly towards him, as he stood gazing out on the broad moonlit expanse, his thoughts occupied with the bitter fate that held him so near his love, and yet so far apart from her, and, gently touching his shoulder, she breathed his name. He turned : their lips met, and so great was the revulsion of fcelinc^ that for a few moments neither could speak. l?ut they were standing where they might have been observed either by the helmsman or the man on the lookout, and Claude presently drew her to th.c shadow of the forecastle. Here they were sheltered from view, and could give themselves up to the rapture c: being together once more. Neither noticed a dark figure crouched on the deck behind a spar not three feet away from them. It was Gaillon. He had .seen Marguerite pass up the gangwa}', and knowing that Claude was on deck had followed, panther-like, to watch her movements. His quick intelligence at once divined that if a meeting between the lov-ers had been planned, they would probably seek the shadow afforded by the fore- castle; and in the few moments when their attention was wholly absorbed in each other he had noise- lessly crawled across the deck, and concealed himself where he could overhear their every word. Very little was said, but not a s}-llable escaped him. Marguerite, for the first time, allowed Claude to say hard things about her uncle. But even yet she tried to find excuses for him. "O Claude," t!ie said, "he is mad! I have watched him day by day, and would not belie\'e 8 ( \l ( ^[ARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 83 it. But his violent ambition, and the thwarting to which it has been subjected, have unhinged his mind. I am hoping that the active Hfe he must necessarily lead in Canada will rc.tore his reason. l)ut mad he is now, and for my sake bear with him and humour him. He has been cruel to us, unkind to me, brutal to }'ou, but he is not the uncle I once knew and loved. Surely his old nature will return when we are settled in our new home, and he will consent to our marriage." Claude could not help thinking that there was small ground for encouragement, but he \\ould not damp her sweet hopefulness. They talked a little longer in a more cheerful strain, each trying to raise the spirits of the other. " Dear," said Claude, at last, " for your sake I will be patient and wait. But you must not stay here. The watch may discover us ; and }-our good name would become a b)'-word in t>ur new colon)'. Say good-night to me and go.' The two held each other in a long embrace, which made up for weeks of se})aration. " If ever you should v.'ant me," said Claude, ")-ou will find me here — every night — at this hour. But do not come acrain unless \'ou need me. There are O r men on board who would delight in making tnnible for us with your uncle. The snake-like e)'es of that fellow Gaillon haunt me like a nightmare." They separated. Marguerite returned to her cabin ; and Claude, with a lighter heart, resumed his pacing of the deck, all unconscious that the e)'es he had just described were watching him with a fiendish glitter which boded ill for his fuluie. At last he went below, and Gaillon crept out of r-^« i n w f ) ' . ,■ ^ 1 ■ 'i. . 1 Ml Hi u^ 84 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL the dark corner where he had lain crouclied, afraid to stir for fear of attracting- Claude's attention. As he emerged from his hiding-place, a hand was laid on his shoulder, and he found himself face to face with a young sailor from Picardy, Blaise Perron by name, an honest, kindly j-oung felkjw, who had noticed the black looks and skulking ways of the green-suited scoundrel, and had determined to keep an eye upon him. " What are you doing here ? " cried he, as he saw Gaillon crawl from behind the spar. Gaillon replied with an oath, and an admonition to mind his own affairs, and let honest men alone. " Honest men do not skulk in corners and watch other people's doings," replied the young fellow, who, however, had only just come on deck, and was ignorant of the scene between Claude and Marguerite. " Let me catch you plotting any villainy against the Sieur de Pontbriand, and I will throw )'ou o\'erboard first, and report afterwards." Gaillon, seeing that his schemes were likely to be thwarted unless he exercised some caution, con- descended to explain that he had fallen asleep in his corner, had only just awakened, and was on his way below to his berth. ]h\t as he descended the gangway he cast an evil look behind him on the }-()ung sailor at his post, and vowed that in his own time and way he would revenge him.self upon him. M -.*. CHAPTER VII A NOT HER week passed, and with the change of the moon, as the old sailors on board had prophesied, came also a change in the weather. The wind rose steadily, and before long the staunch craft was creaking and groaning as she climbed the ocean billows or slid swiftly down their steep sides. By the evening of the 24th the wind had increased to a gale. All the upper sails had been hauled down, and the lower ones doubly reefed ; but still an occasional wa\-e fell with a might v crash on the deck, swirled along the sides, and gurgled through the lee scuppers. At midnight Claude, true to his promise, went on deck. He had, of course, no expectation of seeing Marguerite, but he had not failed to keep his word, and be at tlie appointed spot each night. The storm was raging when he reached the deck. There was no rain, but the sky was covered with n)-ing clouds, through which the waning moon burst fitfully, only to be immediately swallowed up again. The hungry waves rolled high above the little vessel, and seemed as if the)' would over- whelm her ; but she gallantly ploughed along, feeling her way like a thing of life across the trackless waste of waters. 8S 'I 'i ] ^6 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL ! I ;i I i I A sailor passed Claud with a cheery " Good- night, Monsieur. A stormy night ! " As Claude returned his salute he recognised the young Picard, Blaise Perron, whom he knew well, and who had often performed slight services for him during his stay at De Roberval's castle. So great was the loneliness in which his life was plunged just now that he was grateful for the sound of a friendly voice, and returned the greet- ing with much heartiness, adding a kindl)' word or two as he passed. He made his way with difficulty across the slippery cieck. The cordage sang a wild song about him, the spray leaped stinging against his face, and the vessel groaned in every plank and spar. In the shelter of the forecastle there was com- parative quiet and safet}'. A figure wrapped in a cloak was standing in the deepest shadow, and moved towards him as he came up. He could hardly believe his senses. It was ^Marguerite ! " ]\Iy love!" he exclaimed, folding her tenderly in his arms, and drawing her farther back into the shelter. " That }ou should be here, and in such a storm ! " As he spoke, a wave struck the vessel amidships, sent the spra\- in a shower o\er them, and fell with a great thud at their feet. "That was a narrow esca[)e, ' Claude went on. " Had wc been a foot nearer the stern we should have been dashed against the bulwarks, and the whole ship would have known of our meeting here. But what has brought )'0U out, my darling ? L> anything wrong ? I shudder when I think of the MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 87 the risks )ou must have run in getting here in this wind." " The storm is glorious, Claude, and a little salt water will not hurt me. I could not sta)' below. Vou will think me foolish, but I had a dream about you — such a dreadful dream that I felt as if I must come to see that you were safe. I thought I saw }'ou in the toils of a monstrous serpent. It had wound itself about you, and seemed to be crushing you in its folds. I tried to tear it off, but it seized }'ou the closer ; and as I stood back and gazed at it in horror it seemed to take the form and features of that wretched creature m green who follows m}' uncle about all day like a whipped cur." " Sweetheart," said her lover, " it was a blessed dream, since it brought }'ou to me. It gives me new life to see }'ou. But I do not wonder that the sight of that fellow should give you nightmare. The first time I saw him I could not help christen- ing him the .sea-serpent. ?Iis baleful e}-e seems to be alwa}'s upon me. If I should meet him to-night I should be tempted to send him back to the ocean depths frc^m whence he looks as if he iKid but lately come." " Dear, do not joke about him. I am not super- stitious, but I fear that man, and would have )'ou be on }'our guard against him. It was to warn you about him that I risked coming to )-ou to-night." She was much agitated, and Claude soothed and comforted her, wrapping her cloak about her to shield her from the storm, and reassuring her with promises and tender words. While this scene was taking place on deck, a 11 ■' » I lU , i* ' i fit il * 11 lil 88 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL very different one was going on below, in Roberval's cabin. Gaillon, who must have been so constituted that he could do without sleep, had seen Marguerite leave her cabin and ascend the gangway. He knew that Claude had gone on deck, and there was no doubt that the lovers were together. Now was his chance. He stole to De Roberval's cabin, opened the door by some means best known to himself, and, entering, touched the sleeping noble- man on the shoulder. Roberval was on his feet in an instant, and a dagger flashed at Gaillon's throat. The man was prepared, however, and backed quickly towards the door, where the light from the passage shone full upon his face. Roberval uttered an oath when he saw who it was. " Dog of an assassin ! " exclaimed he, " what brings )'ou here ? " " If your most noble highness will let me speak," said Gaillon, cringing obsequiously, " I have im- portant tidings which will not keep till morning. Your niece is not in her room." "Villain ! " roared De Roberval, " be careful what }'ou say, or, by Heaven, I will run you through ! " "Your niece, most noble Sieur, has left her cabin, and is now on deck with her lover. They arc in the habit of meeting thus at night. I would have warned you before, but dreaded to call down }'our anger on my own head. Even now I would have kept silence, but the honour of your house hangs in the balance." Roberval appeared scarcely to hear the latter part of this speech. He had turned his back on Gaillon, and was rapidly donning some clothes. t:. i MARGUERITE DE ROBER\'AL 89 In two minutes he was fully dressed, and, turning hastily round, exclaimed : " Who is the lookout to-night?" " Blaise Perron, the Picard, Sieur. He has seen them together beyond a doubt, and is now keeping watch for them against intruders." This was a lie, but Gaillon did not stick at trifles. " Get rid of him for me," said Roberval shortly. " I care not how." Gaill'jn chuckled to himself as he followed his master up the gangway. His schemes were turn- ing out successful be)'ond his wildest hopes. " Let us steal along to windward, Sieur," he whispered. " They are on the lee side of the forecastle, and doubtless we shall come upon them in one another's arms." The noise of the wind and waves drowned their footsteps, and they were able to approach unnoticed till they were within a few feet of the lovers. Claude had just succeeded in persuading Marguerite to go below and try to sleep. He had taken her in his arms at parting, and she clung to him with an earnestness born of her forebodings. It nas thus that Roberval surprised them. The first intimation they had of his presence was an oath which sounded suddenl}' out of the darkness. Claude leaped back and drew his rapier. De Roberval stood before him with drawn sword. Unable to stand by and witness a combat between her uncle and her lover, Marguerite threw herself between them. "Consider, I beg of you, Monsieur," said Claude, hurriedly; "your niece's honour is at stake. If ■ i ii 90 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL Liil I U '■ wc attract the attention of the watch the fair name of a De Robcrval will be for ever sullied." Robcrval lowered his weapon. " You say truly," he remarked grimly, " though the suggestion comes a trifle late, methinks. I should dishonour my sword to draw it on a liar and a coward. Handcuffs and Lhe hold will be a more fitting fate for such as you." At these words even Claude's endurance gave way, and disregarding Marguerite's entreaties, he threw himself upon Dc Robcrval. The scuffle attracted the watch, and several of the sailors came running up. In the darkness and confusion it was impossible to distinguish anything clearly, but Claude was soon overpowered, and De Roberval's voice made itself heard above the roar of the elements, calling for manacles. Gaillon appeared with them as if by magic ; and before the crew had time to realise anything but the fact that their commander had been assaulted, Claude's wrists were chained together, and he was powerless. As Gaillon finished adjusting the handcuffs, the young Picard before mentioned, who was the only other person to grasp the situation, threw himself upon the spy, and clutched his throat. Almost as his fingers closed they relaxed their grip again, and he fell headlong on the deck. A few moments he writhed in agony, and when he was raised it was found that he was quite dead, though no mark of violence could be found upon him. " It is a judgment of Heaven," said Gaillon, devoutl}' crossing himself "A judgment of Hell, rather, from whence you came," muttered De Roberval. " But you have MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 91 / done your work well. Heave the carrion over- board," added he, giving the young sailor's body a contemptuous kick. " And now to the hold with that villain. And you," turning to his niece, "to your cabin with }'ou. I shall have more to say to you to-morrow." The whole scene had passed so quickly that before the bewildered girl had time to realise what had happened, she saw her lover being marched below in chains. She would have rushed after him, but her uncle's strong hand restrained her, and she was forced to watch him disappear without being able even to bid him farewell. After this the days and weeks passed by, and Claude remained in his prison, with no companions save the rats which swarmed about him. Ilis feet were fortunately free, or he might have been de- voured. Already his body held the marks of their sharp and hungry teeth, where they had attacked him while he slept. He grew thin and pale from the close confinement and the wretched food which was brought to him three times a day b)' the hands of the villain Gaillon. His heart Vv-as bitter within him, and he had almost abandoned hope. But for the knowledge that the voyage must come to an end, and that some change must then take place in his circumstances, he would have given way to despair. He was missed from the deck b)' those of the rough colonists who knew him by sight ; but a rumour had gone about ainonc" the crew that he had insulted De Roberval's niece, and no one ventured to express pity for his fate. The few men {I- IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) if <\% ids 1.0 I.I 1.25 . 132 36 40 iiii IIM 1.8 U 11.6 V] 1 M 96 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL " Here, l^runcaii, Gachct ! " he exclaimed to two of the roughest and most villainous-lookiiifj of the crew, "down into the hold with you, and fetch mc hither the prisoner and whoever it is who is with him. They will look well from yonder yard- arm." He followed the men down the ganp^way, and stood waitinf^ between decks while they descended into Claude's pris(^n. liefore the lovers could separate, one of the ruffians had rudely seized Marguerite by the shoulder. Claude raised his manacled arms and dealt him a blow which sent him staggering, but was himself instantly over- powered and pinioned b\' the other man, Gachet. Bruneau, rec(jvering himself, and stinging from the blow he had received, turned upon Marguerite, and grasping her arm roughl)', shouted : " Up with you to the deck, you hussy ! " Roberval heard the wortls, and it dawned upon him for the first time that it was his niece who was below. He sprang forward in time to see her, white as death, shake the man off, and ascend the ladder alone. Beside hiinself with rage as he was, he could not forget that she was a woman, and a De Roberval. Giving orders that Claude should be kept in his prison, with frigid politeness he took her hand and conducted her to her cabin, where Marie and the old nurse, half frantic with fear at the sounds which reached them, were still watching beside the open space in the floor. " So, Madame," said Roberval between his set teeth, and with a steely glitter in his e}'cs, "so this is the ingenious means b)' which )-ou con- trived to visit your paramour. VV'c shall find MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 97 a way to make both of you dearly repent your stolen interviews." He was gone before either of the women could utter a word, and they heard his stern and im- perious voice addressing the man who had so rudcl)' assaulted his niece. "Vou, IMerrc Bruneau, villain and cut-throat dog, shall learn what it is to insult a De Roberval. To the \ard-arm with him ! " exclaimed he to the men who had gathered about the gangway. " Cartier shall see what sort of discipline we keep." No one dared to disobey. Bruneau was hurried on deck, the noose was cast about his neck, and as Cartier drew near the vessel his astonished eyes were greeted by the sight of the struggling form of the burly villain as he swung aloft. As Cartier came on board his first words were : " The Sieur De Roberval gives me a ghastly welcome." "Such a welcome," returned De Roberval, "as awaits all who disobey my orders or insult my name. Why have you left Charlesbourg Royal ? " "Jiefore I answer that question, Monsieur, I must know whether your last remark has reference to my having left my post without j'our orders ? " " What you will," said De Roberval, haughtily. "Then, Sieur, I reserve the right to refuse an answer. I am my own master on the high seas ; and Jacques Cartier will brook insult from no man." Mis hand sought his sword as he spoke, and De Roberval's weapon flashed from its sheath. A quarrel was imminent ; but Roberval's rage seemed to subside as suddenly as it had arisen. G 1 i; ; If: 98 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL " Put up your sword," he said stcrnl)'. " Wc arc the leaders, and the death of one or both of us would iTiean ruin to the enterprise." "So far as I am concerned, Sieur, it is ended alrcad)-. I serve under no man, least of all under one who uses such terms as )-tju have just applied to me. I am not hast)- to quarrel, but, bein^ in, I will come out honourabl)', or die." " Admirabl}' said," replied De Roberval, "and Canada needs just such a man as )-ourself I was hasty in my speech ; but I had no thouj^ht that you had disobe}'ed orders. I merel)' supposed you to have left Canada because m)' \o\vj^ dchiy had forced you to conclude that I had i;iven uj) the enterprise. You were too quick to misinterpret me. But why have you left Charlesbourt^? " en- quired he, as Cartier somewhat reluctantly sheathed his sword. " Because, Sicur, we could do no more there. The natives were unfriendl)-, and our ammunition was well-nigh exhausted. Our men were openl)' mutinous ; and I could do naui^ht with the cut- throats from the prisons, half of whom deserted, and have been adopted by wandering bands of Indians." Whatever Dc Roberval m.ay have felt on hear- ing this news, he gave no sign. " Be not disheartened," he said " I have arms in plenty, and ammunition enough to conquer all the savages on the continent. Return to your vessels, and get ready to sail back with us on the morrow. All will >'et be well." But Cartier ha-.! formed a quick r':s()lve. Me would not go back. He saw the wretched crew of T ^ I MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 99 criminals who lined the deck about him, and he knew that Robcrval's enterprise must end in failure. Me determined to gain time. "Be it so, Sieur," he replied. "To-morrow we will be read)' for the return voyage. But where is our old friend, Dc Tontbriand ? Have you not brought him with you ? " "Me is on board," replied De Roberval, in an unmoved voice, "but he has been ill, and in a high fever. Perfect quiet is ordered for him. I should be disobeying the physician's orders did I allow you to see him." Something in the metallic ring of his voice gave Cartier a cold shiver of dread, a menace of impend- ing evil. It would have been useless to enquire further, however, and he returntxl to his ship to consult with La rommerayo, his second in com- mand, and with his other officers. CHAPTER VIII [ V i '.■ T A POMMERAYE had been left in cliar-e of La Graudc Ifcniiinr while Cartier paid his visit to Roberval's ship. lie anxiousl)- awaited the news which Cartier brought, and his first enquiries naturally were for his friend, De Pontbriand. ' 111, and in danger ? " he exclaimed, when Cartier had repeated to him De Roberval's words. " I must go to him at once." "Have I not just told you," said Cartier, " that no one can see him ? De Robcrval refused me that privilege, and think you that he will grant )-ou per- mission? It is at the command of the leech, and doubtless there is need for his care. But we arc ordered to return to Canada," added he, sharply. " Never ! " exclaimed Charles with energy. " The last year has taught us a lesson. No success can attend the efforts of I'rance to plant a colony on the rugged shores of the Ilochelaga." " I fear me," said Cartier, " that there will be trouble if we refuse to go back. De Roberval would not hesitate to attempt force ; and our men are so disheartened and weary after the hardships they have endured, that they will resist to the death any effort to compel them to return." " Would it not be possible to return for a short 100 1 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL lOI time, and leave Charlesbtjuifjj before winter sets in ? Another winter I will not spend in Canada — especially not with the scoundrels we have brought with us. And, if I mistake not, we shall have hence- forth U) contend with the Indians, who will now be aided by oiir wretched deserters." " Were we once more on shore," returned Cartier, " it would be ver)' hard to ijjet away again. Rober- val is a determined man, and he has full two hundred armed men ou his ships. We should bj outnuinbered, and easily overpowered. If the colonists he has brought were of a better class than our own, there might be some hope of ultimate success ; but the wretched crew who line his decks arc of the lowest type. See, one of them swings from )'onder yard even now ! I fear the gallows we erected as a warning to our fellows will bear goodly and abundant fruit as soon as he becomes established in Canada. No, Charles, we must give him the slip under cover of darkness, and make away for France. I would not desert him if there were any chance of success ; but with his following of lawless outcasts, even if he should succeed in forming a colony, it would be but a plague spot on the earth." " But," interrupted La I'ommerax-e, " have you forgotten that De Pontbriand is l>'ing ill on board that vessel ? I cannot be .so base as to desert my friend." " I have thought of that also. But what good can you do by remaining? There is a ph)-sician on board, and priests, I believe. If he were to die you could do nothing by your presence ; but he is young and strong, and will doubtless recover. I have a plan in my mind, besides, to save our friends ^ ; I : 1 ! 1 li f t02 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL and the honour of France. King Francis trusts me. He ventured on this enterprise to fill the depleted treasurj' of France, and to spread the blessed kingdom of Christ. I will convince him that the efforts to establish a colony on the Hochelaga will only be a drain on his resources, and that he might as well try to keep a Malouin from going to sea as attempt to lead the red man into the kingdom of Heaven. Fere Grand and Pere lioisseau will bear me out in what I say ; and I will then ask for a ship to go to the New World and compel Robcrval and his colonists to return, if they have not in the meantime ended the exist- ence of the colony by cutting each others' throats. There will be no other way of getting Claude back again ; and, once in France, we can put all our energies into more profitable voyages to the Indies ; or you may find an outlet for your ardour in using your sword against England and Spain. Francis will not long be able to keep out of war." *' But to desert one's friend, and that friend ill and helpless ! I cannot do it," said La Pommeraye. "It is no desertion. You can do no good by going on board L Ileureux, and you may do much harm. In the present mood of De Roberval I fear the only waj' to prevent unnecessary bloodshed is to depart before he knows of our intention. Once safely in France, it will not be long before we are back in Canada to put an end to this foolish scheme of colonisation. To get permission to return, and a vessel to return in, I shall need your assistance." " You are right, I suppose ; but it goes hard with me to turn my back on Claude. And how shall I \ I 1 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL T03 ever break the news of his ilhiess to Mcllle. de Vi^man ? " " Mcllle. de Vij^Mian? I thoiiL;ht it was the black- eyed niece of that mad tyrant )-onder." " So did I, at first ; but had }-ou seen ar much as I have, you would think otherwise. liut that reminds me — I thoutjht I saw women on board De Robcrval's vessel when we hove to." " Your eyes deceived )ou not. There was a sprinklinu[ of them on the deck — miserable creatures, fittin^^ mates for the hang-dot^s who are to be the backbone of New I** ranee. There are some of them on all the ves.sels ; the\-, too, have been recruited from the prisons. What a breed of sinners will spring up at Charlesbourg Ro)-al if we allow this colony to take root ! " " Remember, then, I go on the understanding that we return as soon as we can get the King to recall the expedition. I shall not know a hai)py moment till I grasp Claude's hand once more." If the truth must be owned, the prospect of seeing Marguerite so soon, and without the vigilant supervision of her uncle, considerably influenced La Pommeraye in consenting to the departure. Still he was loyal to his friend ; and could an)' means have been devised of rescuing Claude from the fate that awaited him in the new colony, he would not have gone without making the attempt. But if their plan was to succeed, it must be put into effect immediately. A day's delay might be fatal. Cartier sent for the captains of the other ships to come on board Lci Gnxtidc Herminc. On their arrival he pointed to the bod}- which still swung from the yards of De Robcrval's vessel, and told 1 I04 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL !•: h : ! them what they might expect if they were to return. They had had enough of Canada, and eagerly concurred in Cartier's plan of flight. They returned to their vessels, to make preparations to start at once on a signal from their leader. Night dropped down upon the harbour ; and in the calm June evening the sailors, jubilant at reaching a haven after the dangers of the broad Atlantic, began to sing some of the chansons of their Old World home. The fishermen in the boats caught up the song, and a glad chorus swelled out upon the still waters ; but on Cartier's vessels there was silence. The crews had learned that Roberval had commanded their return, and they also knew that Cartier had no intention of obeying. Indeed, had he attempted to do so, so disgusted had they become with the dreary and toilsome life at Charlesbourg Royal, that they would undoubtedly have mutinied. Their determined faces peered through the gathering darkness. None went to rest that night. They knew that if a breeze sprang up Cartier meant to take advantage of it, and steal out of the harbour. One singer after another grew weary, and towards midnight only a few intermittent notes broke the stillness. Soon all was silent as the grave, save for the occasional cry of some animal prowling in search of food upon the shore. About one in the morning a gentle breeze swept across the water from the land. A silent signal passed between Cartier's vessels, and instantly dark forms moved hither and thither about their decks. No sound was heard, but preparations were being k « I ;' MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL »o5 made to sail immediately. It was impossible to raise the anchors with.out alarmiiv^ De Roberval ; so the cables were quietly slipped, the sails were as quietly hoisted, and the three vessels swung round simultaneously, swept within a hundred yards of De Roberval's ship, and bore awa}- for the harbour mouth. The lookout saw them, but, half asleep and deeming them part of the fishing fleet, said not a word. In the meantime Marguerite, worn out with all she had undergone during the da)-, had fallen into an uneasy sleep, broken by troubled dreams. After the scene with her uncle, which had ended in the hanging of the ill-fated Bruneau, she had sent for her confessor, the good Pore Lebeau, the only priest on board LHcurcux. This good man, by using his influence with De Roberval, had gained admission to Claude's prison, and had re- peatedly visited him, administering comfort and consolation, and encouraging him to wait with hope and patience for the end of the vo\'age. It so happened that he had left the ship in one of the boats which had put off to procure fresh water ; and so was not present during the stormy scene in the hold, or the interview between Cartier and Roberval which followed. On his return, however, he received from the lips of Marguerite a full account of all that had taken place. He remained with her some time, consoling and reassuring her, and left her somewhat comforted by his [M-omiscs to see De Roberval, and endeavour once more to convince him of the mistaken course he was pursuing. After dark, Marguerite, with Mdlle. De Vignan Ill ^ io6 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL and old Bastiennc, stole on deck for a breath of fresh air, and to gaze with wistful eyes on Cartier's ships. The body of Bruneau still swung from the yards, a ghastly vision in the dim twilight. They shuddered as they saw it. " But courage, Marguerite," whispered Marie. " Cartier is close at hand, and he and La Pommeraye will surely be able to influence your uncle. I feel certain that to-morrow will bring us better things." " I hope so," said Marguerite sadly. "It is in- deed time. If Charles de la Pommeraye learns the fate of his friend, he will not rest until he has freed Claude, I am certain. But my uncle will brook no opposition ; and I fear there will be more blood shed before an)'thing can be accomplished." She sighed as she spoke ; and after a little the three women returned to their narrow, cramped quarters below, where Marie, clasping her friend in her arms, tried to comfort her with hopes of what the morrow held in store. Just as they fell asleep, cheered a little in their loneliness by this gleam of hope, La Grande Hcnninc stole silently past in the darkness outside, and bore away for France. 11 When De Roberval came on deck the next morning he swept his e)'e about the harbour, but looked in vain for Cartier's ships. "Send the lookouts of last night to me at once," shouted he to his sailing-master, Jehan Alfonse. " What watch did you take ? " sternly enquired he of a young Malouin who stood trembling before him. " From eight to twelve, Sicur." " And saw you the vessels leaving the harbour ? " 1^ MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 107 " No, Sieur ; no vessel passed us while I was at my post." " And I, Sieur," said a tanned old sailor who had explored every part of the then known world, "went on at four this morning, but not a mouse stirred after that time ; and indeed thev could not have escaped without my knowledge, for it has been broad day since that liour." " I fear, Sieur," timidly said a young Picard from Robcrval's estate, who had stood silent in the back- ground, "that I am to blame for not alarming the ship, if blame there be on any one. I had scarce gone on my watch when the three vessels swept by us. So noiselessly did they go that I deemed them some sleepy fishermen on their way to the banks." " Sacre Dieu ! " shouted Roberval ; " >'ou have ruined us all ! Did I give you the fate >-ou deserve, I would hang you as high as I did Bruneau yesterday ! Take him below," exclaimed he to the men who stood by, " and keep him in irons for the rest of the vo)-age." " Be not too hard upon the young man, Sieur," interposed Jehan Alfonse, stepping forward ; " he is a faithful sailor, and a true ; and we have too few reliable men on board to turn those against us on whom we can depend." " Silence ! " roared De Roberval, now in a tower- ing passion. " I lave I asked for your advice ? I know on what I can depend — my own will and yonder rope. Have a care lest you find your own head in it." " Sieur," rejoined the sailing-master, with firm- ness, "you may insult me — you ma)- hang me if you will — but I must speak. I warn you that if t i io8 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL I 1 you pursue your present course the expedition will be ruined before we reach Charlesbourg Royal, if it is not already ruined. Your hast}' words to Jacques Cartier yesterday have lost us the best seaman in the world, for he has doubtless set sail for France." "You will find, at least," exclaimed De Robcrval, who was b)' this time in a white heat, " that I am commander in my own ship. Leave the vessel at once, l^oard the Francois, and take with you this villain whose carelessness has ruined our fortunes. And stay. I will be generous. You are possessed by a mad idea that by going north you will find a way to China and the Indies. Go, then, and when )-ou have finished your fool's errand return to Charlesbourg Royal, and prepare to obey my commands." Jehan Alfonse's heart leaped with delight. He cared not for insults now ; he was free, in command of a ship, and could follow out the cherished scheme of his life ! He would find what Columbus had failed to discover — the long-sought north-west passage. This great polar current which swept down from the north must come from somewhere. I le would follow the coast of Labrador. This mighty continent could not go on for ever; there must be a way round it, and his name would be handed down as its discoverer. He was not long in leaving L'Heureux, and before the day closed was out of sight on his northward journey. De Robcrval had a sinister motive in sending him away, He had spent a sleepless night. The evening before Pere Lebeau had had a long inter- view with him, and had pleaded the cause of MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 109 Marguerite and her lover, assuring De Roberval of their innocence, and begging him to persist no longer in his cruel imprisonment of Claude. But De Roberval's insensate rage was only increased. He refused to listen to arguments, and ordered the priest from his presence. The good father, seeing that his efforts were only making the situation worse, was obliged to desist from his entreaties, and left the cabin with a heavy heart. During the whole night De Roberval lay awake, brooding over some means of avenering his insulted authoritv ; and by morning he had decided that De Pontbriand should be made an example to the crew. The form of Ikuneau kept swinging back and forth before his disordered mental vision, and as he gazed upon it he resolved that De Pontbriand's should take its place. At first, as the diabolical thought took shape, he recoiled from it. Hang a gentleman of France ! But a madness seized him, and crushing down his better impulses he decided to put his resolve into execution, and teach all on board that the same fate awaited ever)' man — be he noble or peasant — who disobeyed his will. But he feared Jehan Alfonse. He knew the staunch and courageous sailing-master would oppose his action ; and he determined to get rid of him. He smiled a grim smile as he saw his vessel fleetly winging her way out to the Atlantic. He dreaded Cartier, too ; and had made up his mind to delay the execution until he had sent him on his way towards Charlesbourg Ro)'al. Now, however, he could proceed with his scheme ; both the obstacles had been removed, and nothing need [)revent his carrying out his plan at once. Ikit he feared lest I m no MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL Paul d'Auxhillon, and the one or two friends of Claude who had accompanied him, might oppose his design ; and, accordingly, he consulted with Gaillon before putting it into execution. That villain was delighted with the turn things were taking. "You are acting wisely, noble Sieur," he said. " I have long felt that De Pontbriand there in the hold was the gravest menace to the success of our colony. Already I have discovered several plots for his release, and I have long known that only his death could bring us safety. But do not pro- ceed with his execution till the morrow. To-night I will sound the faithful, and have them ready to strike down any one offering the least resistance. Would it not be well to have all on board witness this meting-out of justice ? " "All," exclaimed De Roberval. "Every soul, including his paramour. Lea e me now, and have everything in readiness by the morning." When the first grey of dawn was beginning to chase away the mists of the night the bell on LHeiireux began to toll out across the water. Its warning notes sent a thrill of expectancy through the ship. The majority of those on board knew the meaning of that solemn knell ; and the rest, when, after the accustomed eight strokes which marked the end of the watch, the bell con- tinued its measured clanging, were filled with a vague alarm of they knew not what. The fisher- men in the harbour were roused by the sound, and the crews of the boats lined their riffefiner. prepared, after the ghastly spectacle which had greeted them on the arrival of IJHeurcux^ to I 'I MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL III behold some new example of Dc Roberval's discipline. Soon every soul on board the vessel stood on the deck, with the exception of the three women, and De Roberval, noting their absence, went below himself, and roughly ordered them to dress and come above at once. When all were assembled, De Roberval addressed them. His face was pale and set, and his e}'e glittered with a cold and cruel resolve. " You have come," said he, " to see a crime receive its just punishment, and though shame has come upon my own kindred, my hand shall not relax. Bring the prisoner on deck," As Gaillon and two of the crew departed to fetch Claude, Pere Lebeau, who had witnessed with horror the development of events, hastened to Roberval's side, and with his hand on his arm besought him to consider. "Your niece is guiltless. Monsieur," he cried. " Will you bring dishonour on your name, and murder an innocent man without a trial ? " De Roberval shook him angrily off, and bade him interfere no further, or he should share Claude's fate. " I care not for myself," said the intrepid priest. " I cannot stand by and witness a murder in cold blood. Is there no brave man in all this throng who will help me to resist this tyrant ? " Paul d'Auxhillon, and the one or two other gentlemen on board, who now for the first time realised what was about to happen, sprang forward with drawn swords, and were joined by a couple of Roberval's Picard retainers. For a moment it looked as if Claude's fate might be averted. 113 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL But Gaillon had done his work well. At a signal from De Robcrval, the men who were drawn up on both sides of the deck rushed forward ; the half-dozen volunteers were quickly overpowered, and after a short struggle were pinioned and rendered helpless. Just at this moment Gaillon appeared with the prisoner. The sight of his pale face and unkempt hair, his worn, almost emaciated limbs, and bruised and swollen wrists, awakened a murmur of sympathy even among the lawless wretches who composed the crew. Marguerite, who had stood like one in a dream while these events were taking place, realised for the first time, at the sight of her lover, what Roberval's intentions were. Her proud spirit, which had so nobly sustained her throughout the voyage, gave way at last, and she threw herself at her uncle's feet, beseeching him to have mercy. Roberval vouchsafed her no answer, but, raising her with an iron grip, he bore her half-swooning to where Marie and Bastienne were cowering together at the side of the vessel. " Do your duty," said he to Gaillon ; " and if any man raises a word of protest he shall swing from the other end of the yard." Gaillon needed no second bidding. The noose was swiftly thrown over Claude's neck ; the rope was drawn tight, and the priest, on whom no man had ventured to lay a hand, stood holding the crucifix before his eyes, and murmuring the last offices of the Church. Just as the young man was about to be swung aloft, he turned with unflinching MARGUERITE DE ROr.ERVAI- H3 calmness to Dc Roberval, and with firm, unwavering tones said : " The son of Louise d'Artignan curses }'ou with his dying breath ! May }"ou perish miserably by your own murderous hand!" De Roberval's whole expression changed on the instant from cold impassiveness to wild fur}'. He made one step forward as if he himself would have ended Claude's life with a blow, then paused — and held up his hand. " Stay, Gaillon," he thundered. " Take the dog down! Send him back to his kennel! Your mother's cursed eyes have saved )'ou 1" he hissed at Claude. " I shall find another way to make you suffer." He turned on his heel, and those nearest him heard him mutter " Louise d'Artignan 1 " under his breath. As the words left his lips he fell head- long on the deck, foaming at the mouth. Gaillon sent his prisoner below, drew a phial from his pocket, and forced a few drops between the nobleman's tightl)- clenched teeth. Then he carried him to his berth, and remained by his side, watching and tending him alone ; while on deck every man drew his breath more freel}', and whispered words of astonishment passed from lip to lip. i H f I ■' ^.1': CHAPTER IX A LL that day and the following night LHeureux and her consorts lay at anchor. Towards afternoon Roberval recovered sufificiently to issue commands, which Gaillon transmitted to the crew. So subdued were the men by the strange scenes they had witnessed, and so much in awe did they stand of Roberval and the terrible Gaillon, that there was none of the disorder which might naturally have been expected. Jehan Alfonse's place had been filled by an experienced and resolute seaman named Jacques Herbert, in whom Roberval had perfect conhdence. Under his direc- tion the men returned to their occupations ; the prisoners of the morning were released ; and soon no trace was visible of the extraordinary events which had taken place. Claude remained in the hold, and Marguerite was too ill to leave her cabin. The next morning, when Roberval came on deck, a strong southerly wind was sweeping across the harbour. Herbert was at once ordered to get the vessel ready for sea. Crew and sailing-master were alike eager to leave the place which had been the scene of so many horrors, and willing hands soon had the sails unfurled, the anchor on the cat-head lU I MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL »'5 and the helm hard down, as the vessel swung round and sped away for the broad Atlantic. •' To the north," said Dc Roberval, as Herbert came to him to learn which direction he should take. "It is the shorter course, if the more dangerous. We will follow in the tracks of Jehan Alfonse. And I may want to touch at the barren lands of Labrador. Gold is ever found in regions of barrenness, and gold is needed for our colony." Herbert was a rugged sailor, who thought more of a bit of salt beef and a bottle of brandy than of ingots of gold. Gold, to him, was only good for the spending ; and what use it would be in the New World, where there was nothing to buy that could not be had for a few glass beads and a leaden trinket or two, was more than his intellect could conceive. He shrugged his shoulders at the nobleman's whim, as he deemed it, but answered a cheerful " Ay, ay, Monsieur." And as the vessels stood out past the headland, and on towards the white stretch of rolling waters, his trumpet voice rang out : *' Star- board your helm! Tend to the sheets! " In a moment the gallant craft was sweeping on j her northward wa)', with her sails swelling before '. the following breeze, riding over the summits of the chasing waves. All night she sailed, and all through the following day, and still the rugged shores of Newfoundland stood on their left. On the third day a small, misty cloud appeared on the horizon ahead. At first, the seamen thought it was another ship, but one, more keen-sighted than the others, declared it was an island. " An island ? " said a hardy fisherman who had made many voyages to the New World for fish 5 \ ii6 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL since Columbus discovered it, " then it must be the • Isle of Demons.' I have been on the lookout for it. The air has for some hours been hot and stifling." " Nonsense, Laurent ! It is your imagination." " Steer away from it," insisted the sailor. " Let us hug the main shore. I know the spot ; no vessel ever sails near it. Several did in early times, but the demons pounced upon them, shattered their crafts on the rocks, and carried off the crews to their haunts." Others had heard of it too, and a thrill of super- stitious awe spread among the crew. As the distant land drew nearer, lips ever polluted with profanity, hearts black with crime, called on the saints to save and protect them ; and even the sceptical Herbert, as he gazed on the dark rock crowned with curling mists, fancied with the rest that he could see weird, awful shapes hovering about the shore. The horror of the place seized him. He rushed to the helm, pressed it hard down, and endeavoured to give the dreaded island as wide a berth as possible. At this moment Roberval appeared on the scene to enquire into the cause of the disturbance. " What means this ? " exclaimed he to Herbert. " The Isle of Demons," muttered the now thoroughly alarmed sailor. " Can you not hear their fierce voices clamouring after us?" " The Isle of Demons ! What care I for all the demons in hell ? Back to your course at once ; we have lost too much tii.ie already." "But, Monsieur," said the old fisherman who had first spoken, " they have been known to utterly MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 117 I destroy vessels and men e'er this. Guillaume dc Nouti dared to defy them, and attempted to sail close to the island, but e'er his ship could reach an anchorage, she sank without a warning, bearing the entire crew down with her, excepting Guillaume, who was borne aloft by the demons, and carried to their inland abodes." "A^id who," replied De Roberval, sarcastically, " can vouch for the tale, seeing all the crew perished, and the brave captain was transported to the lower world ? You will have to invent some better story, good Laurent." " Pardon, Monsieur, but I can answer for its truth. I was with Guillaume, sailing the Belle Marie. We were following hard after him when his vessel went down like lead, and I saw with mine own eyes good Master Guillaume borne aloft by the devils. There was no mistaking him ; his red hose and scarlet hat were the only ones on board his ship. I would have attempted to rescue him, but my crew, who also witnessed the sight, fell upon me, seized the helm, and rested nor day nor night till we were safely in the harbour of St Malo, and not a man of them could ever again be persuaded to enter a craft bound for the New World." " Pish ! " said Roberval, scornful!)'. " Port your helm, Herbert, and steer for that island. I am master on this expedition, and if there be any demons on the land they must pay homage to me. But methinks we shall find neither the red hose of your friend, nor the abode of any demons, but a few redskins who have been blown ashore here from Newfoundland, and dare not return." ii8 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL s \, .! I i»!-: . \ ^ [If i " But, Sieur " began the trembling Herbert. *' But not me," said De Roberval. " Port your helm, or I run you through ! " and hj threateningly drew his rapier. In an instant the course of the vessel was changed, and, to the consternation of the sailors, bore down upon the haunted island. The black waters grew blacker as they drew near, and each moment they expected to find their ship sinking beneath them. The lead was thrown, but no anchorage could be found ; and it was not till they were within a couple of hundred yards of the shore that the welcome sound of the rattling chain and dropping anchor was heard. The land was indeed uninviting. Barren, sterile, brown as an autumn field ; grey cliffs rose on all sides, the tops of which could not be discerned, for a heavy fog hung upon them and revealed only the dark base. Gulls and terns flew screaming overhead, and swooped about the strange vessel whicii had dared invade the sacred precincts of their island. The great waves, rolling in on the iron-bound shore, kept up a continuous artillery, as the mighty boulders ground along the stony beach. Dull, hollow groans issued from the many caves which time had worn in the cliffs ; and the hissing of the waters, the booming of the rocks, the perpetual bellow of the waves on the shore, and the wild .shrieks of the birds, all made it seem to the terrified seamen tiiat they had indeed reached the abode of the Prince of Evil. But two men were in no way affected by the scene or the uproar — Michel Gaillon and De Roberval. The latter had formed a sudden determination. His niece and her companions MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 119 i must be punished. Kill them with his own hand he could not, and to put them out of the way, without making a public example of them, would be revenge without purpose ; for the man, despite his mad barbarity, was convinced that he was working for great and noble ends. Now a glorious opportunity was given him to teach a salutary lesson. He would land the women on this desolate spot, giving them provisions for a year, and before that time he could return for them and bring them to his colony. This would surely establish his authority, and be a warning to all wrong-doers for the future. He turned to Gaillon, who stood near him, smiling at the terrors of the crew. "Get the boat ready, and order the women to prepare to land. I am going to give them a holiday on the island." This was a project after Gaillon's own heart. He rubbed his hands with fiendish delight, and set about giving the necessary orders. A boat was soon lowered, and filled with provisions, clothing, and ammunition in plenty. Gaillon and two or three of the desperadoes whom he had completely under his control, pulled ashore and landed their cargo. Robcrval himself superintended the selection from the ship's stores, and thrice did he order the boat to return, each time with as large a load as it could carry. All this time the rest of the crew stood gaping with astonishment, unable to imagine what Roberval's intentions might be, but ready, at the slightest addition to their superstitious fears, to fly into open mutii.,,'. \>4 i: , y I20 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 'i: : n: At last the boat returned from her third trip. Roberval, in the meantime, had ordered the women to get ready to go on shore, and they now came on deck, bewildered with surprise, and uncertain what fate might be in store for them. Roberval commanded them to enter the boat, which was now alongside. A murmur of dismay and sympathy went round the vessel, as the full horror of his project dawned upon the crew ; but no man dared to interfere, save Pere Lebeau. Undaunted by his rebuff of a few days before, the priest stepped up to De Roberval, and fixing his eyes full upon him, he exclaimed : " Sieur, beware what you do ! What are your intentions towards these helpless women who have no other protector but }-ourself? You cannot be so lost to all sense of honour and chivalry as to abandon them to perish on this desolate shore ! How can you expect the blessing of God upon this enterprise if )'ou wilfully do this great wrong? Take care lest the Church should refuse to pardon you, and should cast from her fold the man who could be guilty of so monstrous a crime." For a moment Roberval's gaze shifted under the scathing indignation of the priest, then, drawing him hastily aside, he muttered in an undertone : " Sparc your wrath, good Father ; I but mean to teach them a lesson. I will return for them in good time— I swear it. It is but a necessary discipline that I would give them, so that they may learn to obe>' me for the future." " They will die of terror ! " said the priest. " You have heard the legends of the demons who haunt the island ; and how do you know to what perils I I, i ji ■ i\ MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 121 you are subjecting them from the savages, if iKjt indeed from evil spirits ? " " There are no signs of habitation in the island," said Dc Roberval, impatiently. " My men have explored it thoroughly. No Indians have ever been there, and a good fright will do them no harm. Demons," he went on, raising his voice so that all could hear, " what care I for demons ? Our blessed Lord cast seven of them forth out of Mary Magdalene, and methinks that this strumpet and her companions have each seventy times seven still in their disobedient bodies. But ashore they shall go. Plead not for them ; )'our prayers will be in vain," The priest would have spoken further, but Marguerite, who now understood her uncle's design, came forward with the courage and dignity which seldom failed her, and, with head erect and un- wavering voice, said calmly : " Distress }-ourself no longer on our account, good Father. I welcome with joy any fate which will deliver me from the tender mercies of a tyrant. This, then," and she turned her clear gaze upon her uncle, " is the father's care you show an orphan child ? This is the protection )'ou extend to that other fatherless and motherless girl so lately left in your charge ? Can it be that a De Roberval has sunk to so ignoble a breach of honour and faith ? I [)ra)- God," she went on more softly, "that lie may drive out the evil spirit which has possessed )'ou, and restore )'our noble and generous nature. You arc no longer the uncle I once loved." She ceased speaking, and quietly allowed her- m i il f if I ! i illii I! 1 ' ' «!' |i* :1a «t ' ' 122 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL self to be lowered into the boat. Marie, weeping bitterly, followed her, and finally old Bastienne, filling the air with sobs and lamentations, was deposited beside her mistress. The men took up their oars, and waited the signal for departure. Roberval was gloomily pacing the deck. His niece's words had gone home, and he was on the point of relenting. But he had already allowed his weakness to turn him once from his purpose, and to fail again, in sight of his assembled crew, was too great a humiliation to be thought of. He hardened his heart, and said sternly to Gaillon : " See them safely landed ; take care that they want for nothing, and return quickly. We must be out of this before darkness falls. The wind is rising, and I should not care to be caught on this shore should a storm come up." The boat made a hurried final trip, and the three women were put off on the desolate beach. The oarsmen needed not Gaillon's words : " Back now, with might and main," to hasten them on their return journey. They pulled for dear life ; and through the overhanging mist they seemed to see the shapes of the demons dancing weirdly down to seize their prey. Once back in the vessel the anchor was hurriedly raised, and all nands eagerly assisted in the work of getting under way once more. But while this was taking place Roberval's heart had devised a yet more cruel vengeance. " Bring the prisoner on deck," he exclaimed, "and let him see the results of his disobedience." When Claude stood beside him on the high poop, he ordered him to look at the island, where i MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 123 the three women stood together on the beach. The long confinement in the semi-darkness of the hold had afifected Claude's eyesight, and for a moment, as he gazed across the lines of the gleam- ing waves, he could see nothing. But just as the returning boat reached the ship's side, and the men hastily came on board, he caught sight of the group upon the shore. "O just God!" he cried, "can this be per- mitted ? " "Thus," replied De Roberval, "a just God has made me the instrument to chastise vice. Behold, young man, the work of your hands ! " "Were my hands free," said De Pontbriand, fiercely, " I would become an instrument of God to rid the world of the basest liar and t}Tant who ever served his master, the Devil." " I will be generous," said De Roberval. " Free the dog's hands, and let him wave a last adieu to his paramour." The rusty lock turned, the manacles fell upon the deck, and Claude stood free. But free on an ocean prison, with enemies on all sides ! He gave one glance round, met the cruel e}'es of Gaillon close behind him, and like a flash plunged head- long into the ocean. " Shoot the villain down ! " shouted De Roberval. One of the men seized an arquebuse, and levelled it at the struggling form in the water. He pulled the trigger, but no sooner did the powder splutter in the pan than the gun burst in his hands, and a piece of the metal, entering his brain, laid him dead on the deck. " The demons, the demons ! " exclaimed the m 124 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 1 '■■■ W0 panic-stricken crew. " The demons claim the swimmer for their own !" " Let him go ! " said De Roberval. *' He is too weal< to reach the shore. Me has saved me the trouble of ending his life, as I should sooner or later have had to do. Now for Charlesbourg Royal. No man will venture to resist my will in future." The anchor was already raised, and in a few moments LHeureux began to forge ahead, and to widen the space between her and the accursed island. As Claude had stood on the poop he was plainly visible to the watchers on the shore, i'hey saw him leap into the sea, and heard the report of the arquebuse. Their hearts stood still with fear : but they strained their eyes eagerly across the dazzling surface of the water. Could he have escaped? Yes, there on the summit of a wave, in the wake of the rapidly retreating vessel, they saw him struggling. He was swimming. He was making for the shore. God help him ! Holy Mother help him ! Blessed Jesu, guide him and give him strength ! Old Bastienne's sobs had given place to fervent ejaculations of prayer ; and as she prayed she held before her the cross which King T^rancis had bestowed upon De Roberval — the precious relic said to have been fashioned from a fragment of the true cross of our Lord. liastienne was a pious soul, and, moreover, a quick-witted one. She had heard the legends of tlie island, which had passed among the sailors, and when she grasped the fact that they were to \ xMARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 125 the 1 too the r or be put ashore, she made some excuse to return below, crept into De Roberval's cabin, and stole the precious relic from its case, concealing it carefully in her bodice. No evil spirit could come near the place where this blessed piece of wood might be ; with this in their possession they were safe from all the powers of darkness. She now held the cross aloft, believing that it would give the swimmer power to reach the shore. Weakened by his long imprisonment, his arms almost useless through lack of employment, his strength sapped for want of proper nourishment, De Pontbriand was manfully struggling with the salt, green waves. His head was sinking lower and lower, a deadly numbness was seizing his limbs, and his heart was almost failing him when his half-closed eyes caught the gleam of the golden cross, as the setting sun fell upon it, held high in the air by Basticnnc. He made no further effort to swim. A good hundred }'ards intervened between him and the shore. He must husband his strength. The waves, he knew, would carr>' him ashore ; and with just enough motion in his limbs to keep him afloat, he allowed himself to be borne along. But the northern water was chilling him to the marrow ; and although he could plainly see the women on the beach, and could hear their pra)'ers and cries of encouragement, he felt himself sinking, and De Roberval's prophecy seemed about to be realised. When within forty feet of the shore his chilled limbs relaxed, his eyes closed, and he disappeared beneath the surface of the water. But Bastienne had all her wits about her. In I V 7] I if?.; f 126 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL her young days she had plunged into the Sonnme as joyously as the bravest Picard lads, and old as she was her limbs were still strong and sturdy. Without a moment's hesitation, when she saw Claude's strength leave him, she plunged into the water, struck out boldly in his direction, and, just as he sank from sight, her strong arm grasped him. With all her remaining strength she dragged him after her to the shore, and Marguerite and Marie rushed into the water to their waists to help her with her burden. Far off in the retreating ship the watchers believed that he had been given a prey to the demons. Passing a headland they came upon a full-grown seal, which slid from the rocks into the sea, presenting to them its half-human face. Believ- ing it to be a demon, they crossed themselves in terror, and as Claude disappeared from their sight they were convinced that it had gone in search of him, and dragged him down into the infernal world. Meanwhile, Marguerite sat on the shore, with Claude's pale face in her hands, kissing his lips and eyes, and praj'ing the Holy Virgin to restore him, and not to take her last hope from her. lis' 'i ffP*l Ml CHAPTER X "C^OR a time it seemed as if Claude were indeed J- dead. The women chafed his cold hands, and did all that Bastienne's skill could suggest ; but their efforts seemed unavailing, and they had almost abandoned hope, when Marie, searching among the stores, found a case of brandy, and hastened to moisten his lips with the liquor. Soon, to their great joy, the blood began to come back to his cheek, and they could feel his heart beat. At last he opened his eyes like one in a dream, and met those of Marguerite bending over him. The nightmare he had just passed through came back to him— the fearful struggle to reach the shore, the sound of the water in his ears, like the ringing of innumerable bells, the feeling of despair that had come over him as he felt himself sinking. Full consciousness returned to him at the sound of Marguerite's voice exclaimino- : " He lives ! O Mary be praised, we are saved ! " Saved indeed, but for what ? An island prison in an unfrequented ocean, where years might pass before a ship hove in sight. Night was fast draw- ing in, and they were shelterless, in a drear>-, un- known waste, exposed to they knew not what dangers. They were three helpless women, two of 127 in .i:l! ■if m I i\[-l III:; It'' Li'. . i H^ili '; ; 138 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL them tenderly nurtured and wholly unused to want or privation ; and De Pontbriand was in no con- dition to be of any assistance. Their position seemed indeed desperate, and Claude cursed the bitter fate which had made him the cause of bring- ing such misfortune on his beloved. But old Bastienne came once more to the rescue. Her stolid, peasant endurance and ready Picard wit stood the whole party in good stead. She found a flint and steel — for De Roberval had pro- vided for all necessities — and with the aid of the two girls she collected brushwood and dry branches enough to make a huge fire, the smoke of which, rising high into the air, was visible on the horizon from the departing ship. The sailors fell on their knees in terror at the sight, believing it another proof that the demons were consuming their victims with unquenchable flames. Bastienne soon had Claude's wet clothes dried, and his strength revived by hot stimulants. Pro- visions they had in plent)' — of the rude fare which was provided on ship-board in those days — and the old woman prepared a hasty meal, of which she forced the two girls to partake. But by this time the darkness had gathered round them, and it was impossible to do anything further that night. Fortunately, the time of year was a favourable one. The weatiier was warm, even for June ; and the storm which Roberval had predicted seemed to have passed over, for the present at all events. The balmy air and clear sky of a Canadian summer night made the prospect of spending it in the open air a much less terrible one than it would otherwise MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 129 have been. They kept their fire up all night, as a protection, but they met with no alarms, and were unmolested, save by the insects which swarmed in the air around them, attracted by the ligiit. Claude, worn out by fatigue, slept the deep sleep of exhaustion, and Marguerite spent most of the night watching by his side, while the other two women attended to the fire. The short June night soon gave place to the ghostly, grey twilight before the dawn ; and at last the welcome streaks of colour in the east proclaimed to the weary watchers that daj'light was again at hand. Their first night in their island home was over. The morning broke fair and cloudless, and the little colony of four set about surveying their situation, and exploring their new domain. They found it a wi'.dcrness indeed — barren, rocky, almost devoid of vegetation, save for the coarse bracken and juniper bushes which grew in patches, and for an occasional clump of birches, stunted pines, or firs. No sign that any human foot save their own had ever visited it could be discovered : and the only animals they met with were hares in abun- dance, and foxes, both red and black, which scampered away in terror at their approach, and surveyed them from a distance with bright, timid eyes. S.ca-birds in great numbers hovered about the cliffs on the shore, and what most aroused their astonishment and interest, were the solemn, ungainly auks, which had their abodes along the beach. These uncouth and helpless-looking birds, disturbed in their occupation of fishing among the rocky shallows, waddled off in alarm at the M 'Hi *< <■ n I30 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL ¥ I approach of the intruders, who were irresistibly moved to laughter at their clumsy movements. No doubt those strange creatures had in part given rise to many a weird tale of the demon inhabitants of the island. De Pontbriand, whose strength was wonderfully recruited by the long rest and Bastienne's skilful treatment, set about preparing some kind of shelter for the women before another night should descend upon them. His soldiering experiences, and still more his adventures in the wilds of Canada, came to his aid, and he was not long in constructing a sort of rude wigwam, such as he had seen the Indians build wherever they pitched their camps. Fragrant pine boughs made a luxurious couch, and the exhausted girls were glad to throw themselves down and sleep, while Claude kept watch by the fire outside. On the next day, and the two follow- ing ones, he employed himself in thatching the primitive dwelling with birch bark and whatever materials he could find which would shed the rain from its sloping sides. For himself, he found a sheltered hollow among the rocks, where neither wind nor rain could affect him greatly, and their stores he disposed among the many similar rocky caverns with which the island abounded. His preparations were finished none too soon. The clouds which had been hovering about for several days, finally gathered together one after- noon, and rolled in heavy, thunderous masses up out of the southern sky. The air grew dark and sultry, lightning flashed from the depths of the purple cloud-bank ; soon the thunder crashed over- head, and the waves lashed themselves in fury MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL '3 1 soon. It for ifter- :s up and the ^•er- fury lov( m\ against the shore. The storm was upon them in all its micjht. It was not of long duration, but was followed b>- a good deal of rain during the night, and the next morning there was a furious gale blowing. The waves rose to such a height that the spray from their crests was d? ;hcd over the frail shelter Claude had erected ; and he saw that something more permanent and durable must be contrived. Summer would pass, and winter might swoop down upon them out of the desolate north before there was any chance of their being rescued. A dwelling which would be a protection from cold and snow and the biting blasts of a Canadian winter, must be erected. But how? And with what materials ? Tools he had in plenty, but how to construct a dwelling out of the stunted and wind-twisted trees, which were all the timber the island afforded, was a conundrum he saw no prospect of solving. As it happened, however, fortune favoured him. The very next clay, as he wandered along a high, rocky ]3art of the shore, he saw in the shallow water at his feet what seemed to be the hull of a vessel. Making his way down the cliff, he found to his delight that such was indeed the case. No doubt these were the remains of that same ill-fated craft which Laurent, the fisherman, had seen disappear bencatli the waves. The timbers had been of good oak, and tiie waves, breaking them asunder as they rolled in from the mighty expanse outside, had washed many of them high and dr\- on the shore. There was abundance for a hut, and with these, and the help of what trees he could avail himself of, he had hopes of being able to build a more 1^ 132 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL substantial habitation before the cold weather set in. In the meantime, his strength came rapidly back to him, and in the long, bright summer days and glorious nights, life still seemed to hold possibilities of joy and hope for the little party. They were supplied with the necessaries of life — though they were careful to husband their stores as much as possible ; and Claude was able to vary their plain fare by the addition of excellent fish, and an occasional bird — for they were well supplied with fire-arms and ammunition. The hardy, open-air life seemed to agree with the two girls ; and all four vied with each other in keeping up a resolute and cheerful courage, avoiding all reference to the terrors the future might hold in store. In the cove where the sunken brig lay, Claude had made a rude raft, and with the assistance of Marie, whose strong young arms and bright, courageous spirit were invaluable to him, he soon had enough planks and timber transported to the place where they had landed. To get them ashore, and carried to the spot he had selected as being the most sheltered and suitable for his purpose, was no easy matter ; but with time, and the united efforts of the whole party, every obstacle was gradually overcome. The building, although a small one, was slow in attaining completion, and for weeks the sound of Claude's hammer and saw disturbed the primeval quiet of the little northern island. The women lent their help in every possible way ; and watched with admiration the skilful manner in which Claude provided against every emergency which might befall the little dwelling ; MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAT, 133 ' fii I none gave a sign of the secret and cherished hope of all their hearts, that they might never need to complete it, or to occupy it when completed. Thus July and August passed ; and towards the end of the latter month the " castle," as Marie had gaily designated it, was at last finished. They transferred themselves and their belongings to its shelter, and, as it happened, only just in time. The weather, as usual about that time of year, suddenly changed, and a fierce gale swept across the island. For three days the rain fell in torrents, and the mad waves rolled higher and higher up the beach, till the spot where their summer shelter had stood was completely covered. The nights, too, became cold and dreary ; and the dismal shrieking of the wind through the trees, and the hoarse bellowing of the sea among the crags and caves, had a terrifying cfifcct that made it hard for even the brave spirits of these high-born Frenchwomen to preserve their calm and hopeful bearing. With the shortening days and autumn winds a sadness crept over the little colony, and would not be shaken off. Its influence was, perhaps, most felt by Marie, though her bright vivaciousness never failed her when the others were present. The lovers could not be wholly unhappy while they had each other. Their future was full of uncertainty, and the present of difficulties and dangers, but at least they were together, and separation had been the bitterest of their trials. With Marie it was necessarily otherwise. She could not but feel herself alone, in a sense which was unknown to the other two ; and it became her habit, in the mellow September days, to wander by f m 'I '34 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL ■ n i' h herself along the shore, often sitting for hours, her hands clasped on her knees, gazing in vain at the distant, empty horizon. She had one companion — a young fox which Claude had caught and tamed for her. The little animal had grown devotedly attached to her, and as it grew older it became her constant attendant in all her rambles. Marguerite could not fail to notice the long absences of her friend, and often went in search of her, and brought her back to join Claude and herself in whatever they might be doing ; but Marie was always gay and cheerful with her, and no suspicion of the melancholy that was gradually creeping over her was awakened in Marguerite's heart. It was upon old Bastienne that the change in the climate began to tell most plainly. The faith- ful old woman had borne uncomplainingly the hardships which her young mistresses could endure without a murmur ; but her old bones had suffered from the exposure to the night dews and damp sea air ; with the chill winds of the Autumn she was attacked with rheumatism, and lost the activity and energy which had been of such good service to them all. She suffered much ; her moans often kept the two girls awake at night ; and even Claude, who had built himself a tiny lean-to on the sheltered side of the " castle," could hear her complainings. With the first frost of October the leaves took on their short-lived autumn gorgcousness, only to wither and fall, leaving the little island destitute of even its scant)' appearance of vegetation. Winter, with its desolating breath, was settling down upon them ; and when the first early snows came float- / J MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 135 / ing through the air, they realised that long dreary months of suffering lay before them. But one of them, at least, was to be spared the terrible ordeal. On a calm, mild day, when the soft, blue haze of October filled the air with its deceptive beauty, Marie had erone to one of her favourite haunts along the cliffs — a lofty point of rock, which they had laughingly christened her " look-out." As she sat there, gazing down at the misty, sleeping sea below, her eye caught the gleam of a cluster of late-blooming wild flowers, the last of the season, on a point of the rock beneath her. A fancy seized her to get it for Marguerite. She reached over, and had it almost in her hand, when a slight movement behind her caused her to start a little, lose her balance, and fall headlong over the beet- ling cliff. She fell upon the stones below, and lay motionless, while the little fox, whose rustling approach among the dry leaves had caused her hurried movement, stood on the edge above, peer- ing down with astonished curiosity at the silent figure of his merry playmate. The auks and puffins, scared from their rocky perches, plunged into the ocean, and rose at a little distance to look for the reason of the disturbance. Seeing no further cause for alarm they gained courage and gradually returned, and their quaint, ungainly forms stood in wondering groups about the motion- less girl, who lay with one arm stretched in the cold water of the bay. In the meantime her friends were awaiting Marie's return for the mid-day meal. But she came not ; and they finally went in search of her, Hi 136 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL ''i )' '\ir-*- calling her name along the shore, but receiving no answer save the wild cry of the gull as it circled above them, and the weird laugh of the great diver calling to his answering mate. They knew her favourite point of rock, and on reaching it found the little fox still standing on the edge, and looking down. As they approached, it bounded suddenly off, and disappeared among the bushes. His heart sinking with a vague dread of fresh misfortune, Claude went to the edge of the cliff, and looked over. He saw at once what had happened. The stones at the top were loose and freshly disturbed, and the low shrubs which fringed the rock were crushed and broken. Hastily draw- ing Marguerite back, and bidding her return at once to the hut and warn Bastienne to get re- storatives and blankets in readiness, he hurried round to the base of the cliff. The tide was rapidly rising, and the distance was considerable. With all his haste he was only just in time. As he rounded the projecting spur that formed one side of the bay, the water, which had at first covered only one of Marie's arms, reached her hair, and in a few minutes more must have risen over her face. De Pontbriand drew the bruised and sense- less form iiighcr up the rocks, and eagerly felt her heart. There was a faint, slow beating that told him a feeble life still fluttered there. Raising her in his arms he bore her with all possible speed to the hut, where every means that their resources and skill could suggest to restore her to conscious- ness was tried, and, as it seemed, in vain. At last, as the short October afternoon faded out in a purple haze, and the sad, grey evening closed It MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 137 about them, Marie opened her eyes. She was quite conscious, and seemed to suffer no pain. But the end was evidently close at hand. She spoke but little, and lay very quietly, with Marguerite's hand in hers. Just before it grew too dark for them to see her, she beckoned to Claude to approach, and as he stood beside her couch, she laid Marguerite's hand in his, smiled peacefully as she felt the strong grasp close above It, and, closing her eyes, with head turned a little aside, she passed away so tranquilly that they could not have told when her last breath was drawn. When they realised that she was indeed dead, their grief had no words. Old Bastienne, at the foot of the couch, recited the prayers for the dead in a voice choked with sobs, and with the tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks • but Marguerite knelt in silence, dry-eyed, beside the body of her friend, gazing into the quiet, calm face. At last Claude raised her, and, tenderly wrapping a cloak round her, led her from the hut and down to the beach. They stood in silence' trembling in each other's arms, their hearts too tull for speech or tears, while the chill October wind whistled in from the sea, and the gulls and curlews flew screaming about their heads. *it f ' I . *!• ,1 i ' i; If i I! ' if: w :■ H ■ ' ^«^. 1 CHAPTER XI npH.^T same night, about the hour that Marie breathed her last, Charles de la Pommeraye w'i'^ riding furiously along the road leading eastward to 1 iris, where the King was holding a temporary court. He rode all night, and just as the first faint 3tr''aks ' morning revealed in the distance the grey oiiOi;.o . . the towers of Notre Dame, his horse thundered into the sleeping city. He had had a weary voyage home ; what winds there were had been adverse ; for nearly a month Cartier's vessels had lain becalmed in mid-ocean ; and it was not till the end of August that St Malo, with its towering walls and rugged battlements, was reached. The three vessels had been joyously welcomed by the Malouins. The merchants who had made large advances to the daring adventurers, in the hope of being recouped from the treasures of the New World, felt a momentary pang at their losses : but private disappointment was forgotten in the public rejoicing at the safe return of their daring and world-famous fellow-townsman, Jacques Cartier. La Pommeraye found but little pleasure in these festivities. He was possessed by the one idea of seeing Marguerite as soon as possible. Absence 188 m 1 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 139 had in no way dimmed her image in his mind ; fickle and impressionable as he usually was, the best and noblest part of his nature had been awakened by his love for the beautiful girl whom he had met under such unusual circumstances, and of whom he had as yet seen so little. Now tiiat fortune seemed to be favouring him, he cursed every obstacle that kept him an instant longer from her side. At the earliest opportunity he made his escape from the enthusiastic and admiring Malouins ; and having disposed of a quantity of rich furs which he had purchased at Tadousac before leaving the St Lawrence, he bought a horse, and set out for Pigardy — as the most likely place to hear news of IVIdlle. de Roberval, even if he did not find her at the castle. In order to get away as soon as possible he was obliged to give Cartier the slip. The latter was anxious to proceed at once to court, to report the failure of his attempt to found a colon)', and to request permission to return and bring back De Roberval. It would be out of the question, how- ever, to start before the spring, as the season was now so far advanced ; and La Pommcra}'e decided to let Cartier go to court without him, as the winter would give them plenty of time to consider their plans. He incidentally learned that Roberval had sailed from La Rochelle instead of St IMalo, as he had supposed ; but the idea that he might have taken his niece with him naturally never entered his head, and no one in St Malo was able to give him any information. I'i »! ^' -V 140 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL h'^ i ) m i :' fh}'> iM'. ^ iiii- 11 }^^ wi T^ ' 1 m B; » if 1 1 M- Accordingly, one mornings early in September, he mounted his horse and set out on his long ride to the banks of the Somme. It was a long journey ; but love let him rest nor day nor night till he had arrived at the end. Nor did he accomplish it with- out adventure. One morning, about a day's ride from his destination, he met two gay cavaliers, with finely caparisoned horses, speeding on their way to Paris. They saw the dust-stained horse, and dustier rider, and, thinking it would be fine sport to whet their blades on his clumsy sword, bore down upon him. But they had miscalculated their man ; and as the first gallant checked his horse within a few feet of La Pommeraye, his heart grew weak within him as he saw the determined eye and smiling lips of the man he had expected to see turn and flee before him. " Have at thee, my dainty cock-robin ! " said La Pommeraye. " Methinks the smoke from yonder hostel bespeaks a ready breakfast, and I shall do greater justice to the meal after a little exercise. Have at thee ! " The young nobleman grew pale to the lips, but manfully faced the trial he had himself invited. Their horses danced about each other for a few moments, sparks flew from their flashing blades, but the contest was an unequal one. The youth tried hard to reach the breast of his opponent, but his every thrust was met by a determined guard ; and when La Pommeraye thought the breathing- time before breakfast had been of sufficient k igth, he made a few quick passes that the young man's MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 141 but /ited. few ades, outh but ard ; ing- an's eye could not follow, struck up his antagonist's sword, made a lightning thrust at a broad silver ornament that adorned the gay rider's breast, pushed him from his horse, and laughed a merry laugh as the lad sat up in the dusty road, wonder- ing at his escape. His companion, who had stood by enjoying the contest, heartily joined in the laugh. " Nobly done ! " he exclaimed in admiration, " you handle your sword as if you had been wont to play before King Francis. Henri, thou art not an apt pupil ; thou should'st have used thy horse more, and trusted less to thy arms. If Monsieur is not tired with the contest, would he be pleased to measure swords with me? He will find me no mere lad." "With all the pleasure in life," said Charles, smiling, " But I fear me the bacon at yonder inn will be burnt to a crisp unless I hurry on my way ; so draw at once ; I have not time to bandy words." " Have a care, Jules," cried Henri ; " he is the Devil." La Pommeraye caught the name. " Have I the honour to cross swords with Jules Marchand ? " said he. " Your fame is not unknown to me ; and were it not for the fact that I am in haste to be at my journey's end, I would fain pro- long the fight ; as it is, it must be short and sharp." Like a flash his weapon shot out ; like a flash the other met it, l^ut though the swordsman was La Pommeraye's equal in skill, he lacked brawn ; and, they had scarce played for a minute's space when Jules Marchand's sword was wrenched from his '*i f I 1 1 s i ■:. \\ It ^ ii !i 142 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL hand, and he was left sitting, black with wrath, upon his charger, which whinnied as if in recognition of his master's mishap. " Pardon, gentlemen," said Charles, smiling, " I must not dally longer by the way. Were you not going in the opposite direction, I would invite you to breakfast with me. But beware, hereafter, how you attack lone travellers ; were it not that France, now that Spain is once more in arms against her, needs every man who is able to bear a sword, I should have left one of you, at least, by the road- side." So saying, he waved the two gallants a laughing adieu, and rode away. " The Devil, or La Pommeraye/' said Jules. " Neither ! Too merry for the Devil," answered Henri, " and La Pommeraye, we heard, was killed in Paris." "Nay," replied Jules, "that report was false. But it is true that he is no longer in France. Guillaume Leblanc saw him on board one of Cartier's ships, making for the New World. I was glad of the tidings, I have to confess. His skill and strength made me dread meeting him ; and his departure left me the first swordsman in France ; for despite De Roberval's reputation, he was of an old school, and easy to defeat. But now it seems I am but a poor second. But let us to Paris, and find out who this dashing cavalier may be." La Pommeraye continued his journey, and loitered but little on the way till Picardy was reached. A few of Roberval's retainers were about his castle ; and from them he learned that the MARGUERITE 1)E ROBERVAL M3 and was Ibout the nobleman had not only gone to the New World himself, but had taken his niece with him. The news fell on him like a thunderbolt. Thousands of miles of stormy sea lay between him and the face that haunted his dreams. As he thought how near he had been to her in the harbour of St John, his heart bounded madly within him, and his eyeballs beat upon his brain. But he was not long in planning a course of action. He would hasten to court, and find means of returning to the New World at once. Destruction only could await the colonists, and he shuddered as he thought of the tenderly-nurtured girls exposed to the fierce storms and bitter cold of a Canadian winter. So his good horse was saddled once more, and the measured beat of its hoofs became swifter and yet swifter as Paris was nearcd. Once in the city, he lost no time in presenting a request for an audience with the King, and the announcement of his name, and the natur'' of his errand, readily gained him admission to Francis' presence. He found that Cartier had been before him by a few days, and had urged the necessity of recal- ling Robcrval, and the hopelessness of any attempts to colonise the New World. The King had been greatly disappointed by the downfall of all the hopes and brilliant prophecies with which the expedition had started. He had rewarded Car- tier's bravery and enterprise with the promise of a patent of nobility, but seemed reluctant to encourage the idea of withdrawing the second ■ ir I M m m ■M . \ i '*■ ' i f". i, 144 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL ,r-' i^j 1 1 detachment of colonists. He was inclined to sus- pect that jealousy of De Roberval, and disap- pointment at his own failure, had something to do with Cartier's anxiety to break up a scheme ' which his heart had been set a year before. La. Pommeraye saw his hopes receding into the dis- tance ; his heart sank within him. " But what thinks the Duke of Guise?" said the King, suddenly, turning to that veteran nobleman, who was now his chief adviser, occupying the place that Anne de Montmorenci had so long filled. The Duke had been standing silently by during the interview, regarding La Pommeraye with a meditative air. " Methinks, sire," he answered, " that there much wisdom in what the young man urg Already we have cast too much good treasure away in these vain enterprises ; and now that Spain needs our utmost attention, we can spare neither men nor money for schemes of foreign colonisation." "You hear, M. La Pommeraye," said Francis, " what the Duke says ; but we had hoped to fill our coffers with the riches of Canada." *' May it please your Majesty," said Charles, "there are no riches there, save a few furs and fish. These might serve to give a St Malo or Rochelle merchant enough wealth to retire on, and provide for his daughters, but would not go very far towards fitting out a battalion. I had had great hopes of the enterprise, but the experiences of last winter have taught me that nothing is to be MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 145 urg ' rancis, to fill !harles, rs and ;alo or on, and [o very id had iriences to be gained by our struggles to colonise the barren North. The noble fellows who are wasting their lives in that sterile land, with only murderers and robbers as companions, would be far better in France, protecting her shores from foreign invasion." " There is truth in what you say," answered the King, after a moment's pause. " We are much in need of De Roberval. The Picards worship the ' Little King of Vimeu,' and if he does not return, we fear we shall get but scant funds and few troops from the sturdy men of his province. But what is it that you would have ? " " A ship, Sire," promptly replied I.a Pommeraye, " manned and provisioned for a voyage to Canada, and permission to Cartier to return in it, and recall Roberval to France." " Parblcu ! " said the King, " a modest request ! Well, we will consider the matter, and see what course it will be best to take." " But, Sire," said Charles, his distress and anxiety getting the better of his diplomacy, " the winter draws near, and unless we start at once we shall not be able to reach Charlesbourg Royal till spring." As he finished speaking, the Duke of Guise, who had been conversing aside with some one near him during the last few sentences, turned to the King. " May it please you, Sire," said he, " this mad nephew of mine is desirous of a favour at your hands. It seems he owes his life to this gallant gentleman, and he pra}^s me to entreat you to grant him whatever he requests." K lii I •:* ' It ^n wmm 146 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL \' I Bit' I As he spoke, Charles recognised in the gay young cavalier, who now came forward, his dis- comfited antagonist of the adventure on the road to Picardy. "We have met before," said he, bowing to La Pommeraye. " Sire, this is non-^ other than the redoubtable swordsman whose deeds have been buzzed through the court for a week — to the lasting chagrin of Jules Marchand. Uncle, if you love me, you owe him a debt of gratitude. That I am not at this moment in heaven, praying for your soul, is due solely to his generosity." " Nay," interrupted La Pommeraye, " my gener- osity saved you not ; it was the silver star }'ou wore on your breast. I had intended to run )'ou through ; but that sparkling bauble caught my eye, and I could not resist the novel experience of tilting at you with my rapier." A hearty laugh, in which the King joined, rang out from those who stood near, for all knew of the adventure which the mirth-loving Henri of Guise had related with due embellishment, " We have not had so good a joke since we came to Paris," said Francis, "as that encounter has furnished us. Your doughty deeds deserve a reward. The ship is }'ours, and Cartier has our permission to go ; but we shall not compel him to leave France unless he wishes. And as for man- ning the vessel, you will have to find some other means, for every sou is needed to protect France from our Spanish foes." So it came ab^ ;t, that at the end of September La Pommeraye found himself once more crossing MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 147 rang came has rve a .s our im to man- other Vance the Sillon, with power to purchase a ship and start at once to bid Robcrval return to France. His first proceeding was to seek out Cartier, and inform him of his successful mission. He found, however, that the experienced and war}' seaman was not to be persuaded into under- taking the voyage before the spring. He dispki)'ed small warmth over the concessions of the King ; and declared that, owing to the unforeseen dckij's which had retarded them on the voyage home, it was now so late that it would be madness to attempt to cross the ocean before the winter set in, "In any case," he said, " De Roberval cannot do otherwise than we have done. This winter will prove to them that their efAnls are in vain ; they will be forced to return in the spring." " Ikit," said La rommera)-e, " think of the noble women with them ! The winter will kill them!" " I did not know they were with Robcr\-al," S'dd Cartier. " I supposed he would have had the good sense to leave them behind." "I have been in 1^'cardy and in I'aris," returned Charles, " and I have learned beyond a doubt that they went with him. We must reach them at once, or the scurv)-. cold, or Indians will surely destroy them." "We shall have to trust to Providence till spring, at all events," replied Cartier. "We could not reach the Gulf of St Lawrence before the ice makes. It would be October before we should i/et under way, and you remember the llochelaga was m M ^. I r I >| ■ '1 II 148 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL bridged just one month later last year. No vessel need hope to make the arduous journey acros^: the Atlantic in less than six weeks." La Pommeraye, in his impulsiveness, had not thought of this ; and as the truth of the sailor's words flashed upon him, he felt that his friends were doomed. He accepted the inevitable with what stoicism he could, and unable to stay in St Malo, he re- turned to Paris to fill up his time as best he might until spring arrived. But the gay life about the court had no fascination for him. Dice and the wine-cup failed to attract him, and women marvelled at the handsome young Hercules who displayed such indifference to all their charms. Excitement of a manlier sort he must have ; and although there were no battles of any great importance to be fouglit, the frontier engagements gave abundant opportunity for such swords as his. His old renown soon returned to him ; and tales of his wondrous daring found their way to Fontainbleau, to be marvcllousl)' enlarged on by his staunch friend and admirer, Henri of Guise. But he never swerved from his purjiose, and as soon as the i\Iarch sun began to warm the soil, he turned his horse's head towards St Mak). On his arrival there, he found to his surprise tliat Cartier was no more enthusiastic over the expedi- tion tlian he had been in the autumn. That insati- able wanderer seemed at last to have had enough of adventures by sea and land. He had received his patent of nobility frt)m the King, and since the sufferings and discouragements of his last MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 149 ; old f his nunch t'.iat :pcdi- Insati- 1)11!. di tcived since last voyage, the prospect of comfort and honours in France seemed to hold more inducements for him than the idea of once more facing the clangers of the deep. His limbs were not so sturdy as of old, his eye had lost something of its keen- ness, and the hardships and anxieties of the last winter had left their mark upon him. lie had money enough to support him to the end of his da}'s, and he had purchased the seignorial mansion of Limoilou — that ancient stone house which is still pointed out with pride by the Malouins as the residence of their great sailor. When Charles arrived, he was just about lo instal himself and his family in his new abode. He was willing to sell him his good ship, IJEinerilloi, and to do all in his power to further the success of his efforts, but he was so evidentl)' reluctant to tear himself away once more from the peaceful home, whose comfort he was onl}' beginning to appreciate, that Charles resolved not to keep him to the letter of his promise, but to undertake the vo)'age alone. A capable sailing- master, Gaspard Girouard, was found, L'EincriHon was soon fitted out ; and as she was ostensibly merely going to Canada to bring back a load of furs, more hardy seamen than were necessary flocked to join her on her voyage. The April breezes wafted them across the Atlantic without mishap. They intended to take the southern passage, but a savage spring gale blew them far out of their course, and thc\' steered away for the Straits of Belle Isle. The sailors saw, as they skirted the Newfoundland coast, a distant m ti .n ;; < ; t ,. I' < ■■ ;*''l I r i ■ 1 B f it' 9 • R^ 150 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL rocky island on the horizon. As Charles gazed upon it he noticed smoke curling upwards. "What strange places," he said, turning to Girouard, " these naked savages select to abide in ! I have wandered much in the wilds of Canada, but never came on a place that seemed too desolate for them." " No savages make those fires," said an old sailor who was standing by. "Yonder is the smoke of hell. That is the Isle of Demons." La Pommeraye laughed at the absurd supersti- tion, and kept his eye fixed on the distant point of land with the column of smoke^ which seemed to grow larger with each moment. Ikit darkness soon fell upon the ocean, and the dim outline of the island at last faded from his view. Had he but known ! That smoke was a signal from the weary watchers on the island, who, on one of the unhappiest and saddest days of their desolate lives, saw in that distant sail hopes of release from, their cruel prison. Eagerly they heaped up a huge fire to attract the passing craft, little thinking that it was in search of them that she was speeding on her white-winged way. In a few da}'s LEinerillon had passed from the Bay of St Lawrence into the river of Ilochelaga. A favouring wind bore her on past the deep, black mouth of the Saguena}-, and soon the Isle of Bacchus was spread before the sailors' weary eyes, green, beautiful, and fresh, with the high Falls of Montmorenci leaping wildly down on the opposite shore. On to Charlesbourg Royal they sailed ; and a horrible dread seized La Pommeraye as he MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 151 that :laga. approached the place. A dead silence reigned on the steep banks of the broad river. A substantial structure now stood where Cartier had had his rude fort, and its two towers loomed up before the eyes of the Frenchmen. Other buildings could be seen here and there, but no living soul appeared in sight ; and in the anchorage, where he had looked for the ships of the colonists, not even a canoe could be seen. Could the}- have grown tired of the life here, and started further up the stream — to Hochelaga, perhaps ? But no time was to be lost. When the silent shore was within a stone's throw the anchor v,-as run out, and the vessel rested from her long journe}'. A boat was lowered, and La Pommera}'e went on shore and explored the castle-like structure that crowned the heights, the empty halls and chambers, the gaping shelves and bins in the storehouses, the deep and \acant cellars, the great ovens, and the two silent water- mills, all told him of the hopes which had filled the heart of De Roberval. l£ver}'thing had been care- fully removed from the place, and there were evident traces of Indians ; but as there were no marks of a struggle, and no dead to be seen, Charles concluded that they had merely visited the place to pick up whatever the whites had chanced to leave behind. A rude plot of ground, with several new-made graves, told him that King Death had visited the young colon)', antl the high gallows in the scjuare hinted that the stern-willed nobleman had helped the cold and scurvy to lessen the population. Charles would not return without aking sure 1/ I H 1 1 li I; t n -inT.«yi.*»waJi i» - nit i i nf iWIi* Un .' 152 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL !.. , U that his friends had left the New World, and so, after a fruitless search for natives, who seemed to have betaken themselves to better hunting-grounds, he boarded his ship, weighed anchor, and rested not till he was within the shadow of Mont Royal. Here he met a chieftain, Agona by name, whom he had formerly known, and who had taken the place of old Donnacona. From him he learned of De Roberval's sufferings and failure. He could learn nothing definite about Claude or Marguerite, but as there had been other noblemen in the colony, he did not so much wonder at that. But there was no doubt that they had all departed. His journey had been in vain ; and with a heavy heart he set about retracing once more all those weary miles which lay between him and the woman he loved. m CHAPTER XII *^ T T AVING left his niece and her companions on the Isle of Demons, Roberval had steered his course for the Hochelaga, and about the middle of June the rocky heights of Stadacona loomed up before him. His tyrannical severity on the voyage had made all his men stand in awe of him, and his lightest word of reproof would make the most dogged villain on his vessel tremble for his neck. All were indeed glad when the anchors were dropped off Cap Rouge, and none more so than Roberval himself. The narrow limits of his vessel's deck had preyed upon his ambitious spirit ; and the horrors of the voyage, caused by his own self-will and stubbornness, stood before him like a nightmare. Scarcely had the Isle of Demons sunk from sight on the horizon, when his conscience began to prick him ; and he would have returned for the women whom he had set on shore, but he feared lest his followers should think that there was in him the milk of human kindness. Most of all he dreaded Gaillon. He knew that he had placed himself to a certain extent at the man's mercy, and that fact alone was enough to 158 m m 154 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL I k ; ■ti,.i ; H ' ' ! I if s 'B f 1 [■ill'' . ■ i iw I ii ^' awaken in him a deadly hatred of the cringing scoundrel, who dogged his footsteps like a shadow. He resolved to get rid of him at the earliest possible moment ; and yet he dreaded to take any steps towards removing him. He remembered the sudden and mysterious death of the young Picard sailor ; he remembered also Gaillon's offer to rid him silently and surely of all his enemies. The man was a poisoner, a demon who worked in the dark, without soul, without honour. On board ship Roberval felt more or less assured of safet)' ; but as his destination drew nigh he made up his mind that, once on land, Gaillon must be put out of the way, or he would not be free one moment from the terror of assassination. Gaillon himself was quick to divine all that passed in Roberval's mind. His vigilant eye took notice of the slightest signs which revealed the nobleman's attitude towards him ; but no change in his own manner and bearing could have been observed, except that he was, if possible, more servile and obsequious than ever. Matters were in this state when the vessels passed up the Hochelaga, and the towering heights of Stadacona loomed up, majestic and strong, before them. De Roberval's quick eye noted at once what a magnificent place this would be for headquarters for his colon}' ; but as he skirted the high cliffs, a shower of flint- headed arrows fell on his deck, and warned him that the red men welcomed him as an enemy. To terrify them, he sent a broadside from his guns against the huge natural fortress, which !' :■! If ¥ h MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 155 offer and eye this but flint- him icmy. his vhich re-echoed with the unwonted sound, and the frightened Indians fled far inland to escape the unusual thunder. At Charlesbourg Royal the French landed without opposition. Busy hands soon made habitable the rude dwellings which Carrier had left ; from the first streaks of dawn till the sun sank behind the hills of the St Lawrence, the shouts of men, the singing of saws, and the clanging of hammers resounded over the broad river. A somewhat pretentious village rose on the heights ; and in the centre of it, in place of the flimsy structure designed by Cartier as a gallows, stood a strong, black erection, ominously awaiting a victim. It had not to wait long. The more devoted and cringing Gaillon became, the more did Robcrval's uneasiness and distrust of him increase. Anxiety and remorse had actually disturbed the balance of the nobleman's mind. He realised that he was not himself, but felt convinced that he could never regain his self-control, or know a moment's peace of mind, till he had got rid of the vile wretch whom he had in a manner taken into his confidence, and who haunted his sleeping and waking hours. Chance placed an opportunity' in his wa)'. Although the colonists had brought plenty of powder and ball with them, they were ill provided with food for a protracted season. They had expected that Cartier would have an abundant crop growing round his establishment, but they found that he had not even broken the soil that year. They found, too, that the Indians held J * II ' ■ ?i % I i ■W ' K i \! ;!.:^^ \i '.ir 156 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL ik^r. n!' i' ' k. > f aloof, and would do naught to help them. The few stragglers whom they could attract by " fire- water," had no stores of food, as they were too inert to till the soil, and depended merely on game and fish ; feasting while it was abundant, and starving when it was scarce. Roberval was a man of shrewd foresight. He carefully gauged his supplies, and saw just how much could be allowed each man to carry him through the long autumn and winter months ; then he sent forth an order that any man taking more than his allowance would meet with severe punish- ment. Shortly after the order had been issued, it was discovered that some one had entered the stores by night, and taken a quantity of provisions. A watch was secretly set, and a few nights after- wards the thief was caught, and proved to be no other than Gaillon. Seeing the direction Roberval's thoughts were taking, and that his schemes for advancement were hopeless, the man had resolved to desert the colony ; and to that end had begun to secrete a supply of food sufficient to support him till he could join one of the wandering bands of Indians further up the country. He was brought before Roberval, who immediately ordered him to the gallows. The wretch fell on his knees, but Roberval was deaf to entreaties and curses alike. " To the g•allovv^s with him ! " he repeated. " We are well rid of such a villain." Gaillon's character was well known, and no one pitied his fate. Scarcely a man in the colony did not breathe more freely when he knew that it was 1 ■ ■; MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 157 We one y did t was beyond his power to work any further mischief; but they shuddered as they looked upon his dangling form, and wondered who next among them would meet a similar fate. In the meantime, Dc Roberval had not forgotten his promise to return for his niece. But he had greatly miscalculated the distance and the time it would take a ship to go and return. In the present condition of the colony it would be utterly out of the question for him to be absent in person for so long a period. He had no difficulty, however, in finding one or two of the young noblemen who were willing to undertake the expedition ; but an obstacle presented itself on which he had not counted. Not a man among the sailors could be found who was willing to return to the dreaded spot. Threats, commands, persuasions were alike in vain ; no power on earth could have induced the crews to venture near the place where they had seen with their own eyes the flames of hell, and the demons hastenini;? to claim their victims. Roberval dared not attempt force. Able-bodied seamen were too few and too precious to risk tlie loss of even one. He was obliged to give up the attempt, and to resign himself to ail the horrors of remorse. Whatever he may have felt he kept it to himself, and no man dared open his lips on the subject. Winter set in, and proved a terrible one for the inhabitants of Charlesbourg Ro)'al. They suffered keenly from the cold ; and their miseries were greatly increased by the scarcity of food. Few dared go beyond the walls to seek supplies, as the if i n- 158 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL U ,i prowling savages were ever ready to cut them off. They lived, too, in constant dread of Dc Roberval's iron rule ; and for the slightest offences they were brought to the whipping-post, cast into the guard- house, chained hand and foot, or led -hivering to the gallows. Scurvy, too, broke out, and no Indian could be found to direct them to the tree whose virtues had once saved the remnants of Cartier's crew. They fell like the brown leaves before the frosts of autumn ; and the feeble arms of their suffering and half-starved comrades made the walls resound with the dull thud of the pick, as they almost daily cut into the hard, frozen ground, to make ready graves. Those of gentler blood had nearly all succumbed, and no priest was left to give the last rites to the dead. When spring came, almost half the colony had disappeared, and those who survived were naught but living skeletons. When the ice had left the river, and the snows the land, Roberval determined to make an effort to explore the great inland seas which had been depicted on Cartier's map, and if possible to find the spot where the nugget of gold had been discovered. But he had no idea of the distances in this vast continent ; and after a month's struggling up turbulent rivers, and over rugged stretches where the foot of white man hnd r before trod, he returned disheartened ! ment. Here he found that the men In i ku charge had been taking advantage of 1; absence to hold high revels, and the wildest confu ion reigned in the fort. Disgusted and hopeless, he resolved to break up hi* colon)' and return to ';% t MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 159 111 >n Iss, liC rn to France, his ambition thwarted, his hopes rudely shattered, and his dreams of glory and renown in the New World faded into nothing but bitter memories and unvailing regrets. As he sailed down the Gulf of St Lawrence with the handful of men who were left to him, he resolved to make one more effort to return to the Isle of Demons, and learn, at any rate, what he could of the fate of the three women — though he had no thought of the possibility that they might have survived. But when the crew learned whither they were bound, they rose in a body and mutinied. A few of those on board stood b}' Roberval in his resolve, but they were overborne, some of them struck down ; and De Roberval, seeing his own life in danger, ordered Jehan Alfonse, who had returned to his allegir.nce, a sadder and a wiser man — like his commander — to steer away for France. And thus, while Charles skirted the north of Newfoundland, De Roberval was leaving the mouth of the Hochelaga ; and, sailing westward past the island of Cape Breton, kept on his steady way across the ocean. On his arrival at La Rochclle, he let the mutineers go unmolested, fearing lest the story of his niece might be noised abroad. When he returned to court he reported that both girls had died in the New World. Rumours of the truth went up and down the land ; but tlic court and the Church were silent, for the King stood in need 'f De Roberval. The high esteem in which he vas held led all who learned the tale to believe W S ' i ' .■ .J.I ■ i, (■ I ; i • 1 , ■ i_ 1- i w 1 60 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL that if he had been cruel, his cruelty must have been but the just punishment of guilt ; and for the sake of the ancient and honourable name of his house, no one dared ask him any questions. Dc Roberval threw himself and all his energies into the new war which was in progress, and in the clash of arms and the excitement of battle tried to drown the nightmare conscience that gave him no rest by night or day. 'Mil In the meantime La Pommeraye had arrived at Charlesbourg Royal with the results already narrated. His buoyant, nature sank in despair when he became convinced that he and the noble- man had passed each other on the broad Atlantic. He had come three thousand miles over dangerous seas to look upon Margu'^rite, and now he must re-travel the same weary distance alone. He bade adieu to Agona, who would have had the fair giant stay with him, and accompany him and his tribe far past the "leaping waters," as they called the rapids at Lachine, for he had planned a great hunting expedition to the inland seas. La Pommeraye would fain have gone with him, but even though he thought Marguerite safe in France, he could not bring himself to stay away from where she was an hour longer than he could help. So he sailed down the Hochelaga ; and as he wished to bring some return for his voj^age back to F"rance with him, he turned his vessel's head towards the Saguenay, intending to get a supply of furs from the Indians of that deep, dark river. MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL i6i s tribe cd the great La n, but ranee, from eould as he back head tupply river. The rocky heights, based with rolling stretches of barren sand, soon rose before him. Far up, he saw the granite bluffs rising step above step, and he had a strong desire to follow where they might lead ; but Marguerite drew him away. Fortunately a cluster of wigwams studded the shores about Tadousac, and La Pommera}-e, who had spent a month in that region, with these very tribes, had little trouble in loading his vessel, at small cost, with a valuable cargo of furs. From these Indians, too, he heard tales of Roberval's colony ; and as they related in their grave, stoical way the sufferings the French had endured, and the number of men who had fallen beneath the iron hand of De Rober\al, his heart was moved with pity for his fellow - countr}-men. Of Claude and Marguerite he could learn nothing. According to the Indians' accounts no women at all answering to Charles' descriptions had been with De Roberval ; and several Montagnais warriors, who had known Claude when he crossed with Cartier in 1535, and M'ho well remembered the reserved, dark-eyed young Frenchman, declared that he, too, had not been at the colony. This news greatly troubled Charles, and as soon as his vessel was well loaded, clapping on all sail, he once more sped on his wa)' acr( »ss the great northern ocean, which had now lost all its terrors for him. It was September before his ship reached St Malo, and, after leaving her in the hands of the merchants who had put mone)' into the etitcrprise, he hurried to Cartier, who was in Paris on business, and laid before him all he had seen and heard. 1 S ' III ■i iiS ■! * 11 i lir "S I 162 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL Cartier had more than a suspicion of the reasons which had induced Charles first to come back to France, and then to be in such mad haste to return to Canada. He was a shrewd observer, and had drawn his own conclusions, but discreetly kept them to himself. He now stood looking at his stalwart, handsome young friend and fellow-voyager with a great pity at his heart, and wondered how he could break to him the news of the rumours he had heard. " La Pommeraye," he said at last, " my arm is not as strong as it once was, or I should be more than tempted to strike a blow at a man whom we once called friend." " Whom do you mean ? " cried Charles, a vague anxiety roused within him at the sight of Cartier's face. " I mean De Roberval." "Why, what has he done? Is there bad news? Tell me at once, I beg of you ! What have you heard ? " " I do not know what he has done. I have seen no one since his return who was with him at Charlesbourg Royal ; but it is rumoured in Paris that neither Mdlle. de Roberval nor Claude de Pontbriand ever reached Canada." For the first time, as he heard those two names coupled together, a dawning suspicion of the truth rose in La Pommcraye's mind, only to be swallowed up in the undefined and horrible fear suggested by Cartier's final words. He rose, with a face like death, and laid his hand on Cartier's arm. MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 163 seen |m at Paris le de lames Itruth be fear with Kier's " Tell me at once what you mean ! " he said. " I know nothing accurately. The only thing certain i^-, that they did not return with him. I have heard wild tales, with I know not how much truth in them, that he put his niece and her companion ashore at Cape Breton or Newfound- land, and that De Pontbriand, who could not prevent his dastardly act, threw himself into the sea, and tried to swim to the shore, but sank ere he reached it." Charles swore a great and fearful oath. Then he walked over to the window, and stood with his back to Cartier, looking out into the street. When he turned round, his face was twenty years older. " Where is he ? " was all he said. " Act not rashly," said Cartier gently. " It may be mere rumour. I have tried to verify the tale, but each time I have heard it, it has been from some one who was never out of France, and it has been told with so many variations that I have begun to hope that, after all, it has but a very small foundation in fact." " I have known that all was not right," replied Charles, " ever since I left the Indians at Tadousac. Tell me at once where De Roberval is ! I leave no stone unturned till I have found out the truth. Would to God I had killed him that night on the Sillon ! " " The last I heard of him was that he was in Picardy," returned Cartier. " But if there is any truth in the story, you are not likely to hear it from his lips. He landed in Rochelle. Some of his crew are likely to be found in that town ; and, ^ ; 164 MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL !' il if [ 4 I :> at all events, you will be able to trace some of them, and learn the facts before you do anything further." The advice was undoubtedly wise ; nothing could be gained by confronting Roberval with vague accusations. Without a moment's loss of time La Pommeraye hastened to La Rochelle ; but he could find no trace of any one who had been with Roberval. The sailors had all gone to sea again ; and those of the colonists who were not already in prison once more were on their way to the seat of war. To the front also had gone the one or two gentlemen who were known to have returned from the ill-fated expedition. Strange as it may seem, Charles could obtain absolutely no more definite information than the vague reports which he had alread)' heard. He learned that Roberval had taken a number of his men back to Picardy with him, and was there doing j-eoman service for King Francis. La Pommeraye had done enough travelling in the past few weeks to exhaust a man of ordinary strength ; but he seemed incapable of fatigue. Once more his horse was saddled, and once more he set off on the familiar road to Picardy. The long journey was at last accomplished, and ne arrived at the castle as the bleak November winds were sweeping across the land from the English Channel. Roberval was with a small army five miles away ; but i a Pommeraye recognised in one of the .servants, Etienne Brule by name, the man who had escaped uninjured from the famous en- counter with Pamphilo de Narvacz, and who had ever afterwards regarded La Pommeraye as a being MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL i6s more The id lie ivvinds [iglish five In one man ; en- had Ibcing of a supernatural order. This man had been with De Roberval on his voyage, and from him, after an hour's cross-questioning, La Pommeraye at last elicited the truth. The remembrance of the horrors through which he had passed, and his terror of De Roberval's wrath if it were discovered that he had related the story of the desertion of Marguerite, seemed to have muddled the poor fellow's wits, and his tale was wild and incoherent. But he stuck manfully to his assertion that he had seen Claude reach the shore. " The others laughed me to scorn," he said, " and some went so far as to say that they saw the demons drag him down, but I know better. My eyesight is stronger than theirs, and I saw him rescued and dragged ashore by the women. But Monsieur will not speak to the Sieur de Roberval of these things? He foams at the mouth if his niece's name is so much as mentioned ; and he would kill me if he found that I had told you about her." Charles heeded not the man's words. Before his eyes he saw a great pillar of smoke rising up and spreading far over the ocean ; he saw his pik)t seize the helm and steer away from the dreaded .spot. As the vision rose before him he cried aloud in the bitterness of his heart, " O God 1 Thou art too cruel, too cruel ! " m fill '^ i Ilii I . ^h^^'iV^' IM f! "1:1 , i> I i •I CHAPTER XIII T T was a sad duty that Bastienne and Marguerite had to perform when they made Marie's poor broken body ready for burial. And while they toiled with loving hands within the hut, Claude worked as best he could to prepare a rude coffin from some of the planks which had remained after the building of their dwelling. Each blow of his hammer went to the hearts of the women, from whom this sad calamity seemed to have taken the last ray of hope. By the evening of the day which followed her death all was ready, and Claude, with an aching heart, dug a grave in the level, grassy sod, just back of the cliff from which she had fallen. All completed, he returned to the hut, and the three watched silently by their dead till morning broke upon them. Shivering in body and mind, they made ready to carry her remains to their island grave, while the wild sea-birds, which flew scream- ing in the face of the coming storm, seemed, to their saddened hearts, to wail of human impotence. Bastienne and Marguerite took the head of the coffin between them, while Claude carried the foot, and the mournful little procession left the 160 I I -t; MARGUERITE DE ROBERVAL 167 ley and the the the hut, and cHmbed the hill on which the grave had been dug. Slowly their burden was lowered into the shallow earth ; and, holding the crucifix above it, they offered up prayers for the rest of the soul which had been so suddenly snatched from among them. It was hard to cast the first spadeful of earth upon the coffin. As each pebble struck the lid, it seemed to them as if Marie must feel the blows. But the bitter duty was at last at an end, the last stone was placed on the rude monument which marked Marie's resting-place, and sadly they turned to leave the spot. The storm had been steadily increasing, and now the mad waves lashed and rolled like mighty, moving mountains upon the shore. The far-thrown spray fell in torrents about their hut. They were chilled to the bone, and sat shivering all day about the great log fire which burned in their huge, out- of-door fireplace. At last the fury of the gale drove them indoors, and all three sat huddled in their blankets, unable to keep warm. This was but the prelude to winter. But before that dread season settled down in all its northern fierceness, they were to know a few days of happy respite. Next morning the storm had abated, and a bright sun gleamed across the long, smooth rollers that still swept in upon the shore. There was a strange feeling of summer in the air, and Claude, who remembered his experiences at Quebec, when with Cartier on his second voyage, knew that the " Indian Summer," the time set apart by the red men to make their final preparations for winter, was upon them. For a week the warm sun shone through I fi i ■ ■; I- I "J t (